Usual Adventures
by The Weather Gal
Summary: The last chapter! Thanks for reading! Sydney's dreams are fufilled!
1. Chapter 1

Authors Notes: Hey everyone, thanks for taking the time to read this! This is my first time writing Alias fan fiction, even though I am a big fan of reading it, which I do every day of my spare time! So now, the reader has become the writer and I hope you can take some time to tell me how I did. This may start off slow, but tell me where I should go with this.. I can tell you this, there will be some action, some romance, some fun! Disclamer: Of course I don't own this, my hero, J.J. Abrams and his associates do. I could never imagine something THIS AWESOME! Other notes: Please review! Thanks! Reviews are almost as good as a new Alias episode!  
  
  
  
  
  
This was happening on missions over and over again. It was becoming more of a tradition than not. It would seem every time I would go I would almost get out, but guess who's always there, Sark. He loves to just come out of nowhere and try to steal my information. Most of the time I don't let him, but the two times he has been successful, it just makes me all angry inside. Well, I was to be going on another mission for SD-6. I was planning on meeting my arch-nemeses as usual. Just how, though.  
  
  
  
I was sitting in the SD-6 conference trying not to fall asleep. I had gone on a mission for SD-6 on Monday, another for the CIA on Wednesday, and it was Friday and another mission for me. Sloane seemed a little off, but nothing too strange for me to handle.  
  
"So you will go to Moscow to receive the key, which is locked up in the basement of this building," Sloane drags on. It seemed easy enough. I remember the last time I was in Moscow I didn't have the best time. Oh well, the mission seemed pretty easy. SD-6 wanted some key to open some box of Rambaldi's. My father was giving me death stares from across the table. I guess it was apparent that I wasn't paying attention.  
  
"Alright, I guess we're done here, you'll leave tonight," Sloane concludes. We all grab our papers and file out of the gray conference room. My father stayed behind and waited for me. He followed me out and ushered me to a hallway to the side.  
  
"Alright, two minutes. This is going to be a lot harder than Sloane has been portraying it to be, mostly because he doesn't know. We're you paying attention at all?" my father asks.  
  
"Somewhat, anyway, continue," I whisper.  
  
"Anyway, the CIA already knows about this mission and they are going to send you backup," he concludes before the pen beeps.  
  
"Okay, well, I guess that's it," I reply.  
  
"Good luck," my dad musters out.  
  
  
  
I headed home to pack for this exciting mission. I wasn't too sure why my dad was freaking out about it, but I figured Vaughn would tell me as much. I wonder if Vaughn will be one of the back up agents? It would be nice. I walked in the house and notice that Francie wasn't home, she was probably at the restaurant. Some Friday night I was going to have. Fly to Moscow and eat crappy airplane food. Sounds exciting for me. I put my purse down, checked the message machine, and headed to make some tea. Then the phone rang, as usual.  
  
"Joey's Pizza," he asks in his charming voice.  
  
"Sorry, wrong number," I confidently reply.  
  
Today I needed to see Vaughn. I was totally not in the mood to be going on this mission and he makes my day a little brighter, mostly because I can talk freely without worrying about what I'm saying. So I grabbed my car keys and headed out to the warehouse.  
  
  
  
He's already here and I see him sitting in the shadows. My shoes are announcing my arrival so I see him get up from his spot.  
  
"Hey," he starts.  
  
"Hey, so what's the deal?" I ask.  
  
"How much did your dad tell you?" Vaughn asks.  
  
"Not much, you know how short we can talk at SD-6. All he told me was that I was going to have some back-up because Sloane was over-rating the mission."  
  
"Yeah, he is. Well, the building you are supposed to get into is actually an old underground operations center for the KGB. It's now being used by some people in the Russian mafia to control their operations. Sloane didn't have this intel and the building is very highly guarded."  
  
"What did Sloane think it was?" I ask.  
  
"He told your father he believed it to be the basement of a Russian historian," he explains.  
  
"Okay. So what's the plan?"  
  
"You'll get into the basement through a secret passageway that our agents used in the 80s. They believe it still to be unknown to the Russians, but if it's sealed off, you'll have to try to get in the back way, which is going to be a lot harder. Your hopefully going to get in through the passageway and it will take you directly above the operations room. Now, if they are still using the old vault, it will be located at the very end of the tunnel. You should meet 2 of our agents in the tunnel and when you do, you'll go radio silent."  
  
"Okay. Wow. Who are the agents?" I ponder.  
  
"As much as I wanted to accompany you on this mission, they wouldn't let me. However, there's going to be two agents out of Moscow who have raided the building before. They know what their doing, so I guess you're safer that way."  
  
"I'll have you on coms?"  
  
"As usual," he smiles at that response.  
  
"My guardian angel for every mission," I sweak out. "Oh, what about the key?"  
  
"The agents in the tunnel with you will make a copy of it. Obviously we want SD-6 to have the real key, so we can see what's in the box."  
  
"Good point," I say. I yawed really big at that point. "Sorry."  
  
"Tired?" Vaughn asks.  
  
"Yeah, this week as been totally crazy," I explain.  
  
"Maybe you could go on a vacation soon," he suggests.  
  
"I could," I respond. That doesn't sound like a bad idea either. "That sounds perfect right now."  
  
"Yeah," he says. The uncomfortable silence comes again. Then I remember.  
  
"You think Sark will be there?" I ask.  
  
"Unless the key has another purpose, probably not since he won't have any use to getting the key," he explains.  
  
"Valid point," I decide. "It just seems like in this past month I have run into him more times than not. That one time he even asked me to come work for him. He's so bogus."  
  
"That was remotely funny, I do admit," Vaughn says.  
  
"Well, I should be going. I want to try to enjoy some of my Friday afternoon," I say.  
  
Vaughn shuffles his papers up, "Good luck, and seriously, think about that vacation. You need it."  
  
I walk out of the warehouse happier, I would say. Now on to the mission.  
  
  
  
  
  
***Drop me a line or two! I would jump for joy!*** Thanks, Masquerade 


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Notes: THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS! They actually helped me a lot and gave me ideas on my own writing styles. So thanks and keep them coming! I hope you like this section, because I understand the last one was kind of blah, but I had to get my mind going and get the action set up! I hope you enjoy! Disclaimer: Of course I don't own these wonderful characters! The wonderful man J.J. Abrams and his associates do! **Finally. enjoy! And Review!!!**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
This plane ride was definitely not going on my top ten favorites list. First of all, my seat couldn't recline and my tray table couldn't pull out. Needless to say, I didn't start in the best mood. The highlight of the flight was the screaming baby two seats behind us and the man across the aisle that snored really loudly. I normally can sleep pretty well on planes, but this time it was not going so well. I might actually need to take Vaughn up on that offer on a vacation. It certainly would be pleasant right now. We were almost there and I was getting this weird flip-flop feeling in my stomach. This made me quite nervous.  
  
"Hey, you okay?" Dixon asks.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine, didn't get much sleep though," I tell him through my teeth. I don't want to say anything because the only other time I've had that flip-flop feeling is when bad things have happened. Like when Dixon was shot and when my Dad and I were captured by Hassan in Cuba last year. Oh well, I had to shrug it off. Nothing bad was going to happen on this mission. It seemed easy enough, right?  
  
  
  
We got to the hotel where we got our supplies ready. We were planning on going later that night, so we had three hours to spare, so I grabbed a bite to eat and laid down for a quick nap.  
  
  
  
::KNOCK KNOCK::  
  
I was startled. What time was it? Oh crap! I have to go soon. Oh, who keeps knocking that door? Probably Dixon. So I decided to head over to the door and answer. I peeked through and indeed it was Dixon, so I opened the door.  
  
"Hey," I say in between yaws.  
  
"Hey, you okay?" he asks.  
  
"Yeah, I just got some sleep. Let me just get changed and then I'll meet you in the lobby and we can go, okay?"  
  
"Sure thing."  
  
  
  
  
  
We got to our location where we were to set up. I got my lovely black attire on, complete with matching black wig. I was ready to go and we had everything in place. Still. I was not to sure about this.  
  
"You ready to go Syd," Dixon asks me.  
  
"You bet, I'll see you at the extraction point, okay?"  
  
"Good luck and be careful, as usual," Dixon says, mildly reassuring me as usual. He can be so sweet, but only if he knew the truth about who he was working for.  
  
  
  
  
  
I headed down to the area that Vaughn said that the secret door would be at. It didn't seem like anyone was in the area. Looked okay so far.  
  
"Alright Dixon, I'm going radio silent for the entrance," I tell him. I told him my dad had said there was a radio locator and that any radio transmissions would have been detected and we would have been found. He easily believed it, as usual.  
  
"Good luck Syd," he said.  
  
I bent down to open the handle that I had found when all of a sudden I heard the not so familiar noise of a gun being pointed at my head and felt it too.  
  
"Let me guess," I say. "How do you do, once again, Sark?"  
  
"Now how did you know it was me?" he remarks in that ever so lovely accent that I'd rather puke on.  
  
"Hm, I just figured you wouldn't like to break tradition you know. The fact you try to sabotage every one of my missions, that's all," I tell him  
  
"Indeed, I do happen to like to do that, don't I?" he says.  
  
At this point it occurs to me that Vaughn is probably listening to this and probably, hopefully, telling the agents in the tunnel to bust out of there and give it to Sark.  
  
"And if your wondering," he starts, "I took the liberty of, how would I like to say it, kill the agents that were waiting for you in that lovely tunnel."  
  
I did really hate him, just to clarify.  
  
"How pleasant of you," I add.  
  
"It truly was, wasn't it? Now on to business. You see, the last time we were here in this esteemed city, it just so happened that I proposed to you that you come work for me."  
  
"Oh yes, I seem to recall that. Then I pulled the alarm and got out of there, map in hand," I remark.  
  
"Oh, trust me, I didn't forget. Which makes me ask you a second time, how about you join forces with me. I certainly have more benefits than working for that retched SD-6 would. So what do you think?" he asks.  
  
"Once again, I'm going to pass," I say. Like I am going to work for your pathetic killing organization. I'd rather die.  
  
"Well then, I guess I'm going to have to assist you in your decision," he tells me.  
  
"And that inclines." and all of a sudden, five men dressed in black garb come and attack me. One shot me with something because one moment I was in Moscow and the next the screen went black.  
  
  
  
~~Enjoy it? Review it!~~ 


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Notes: As usual, reviews rock, you rock! Just for reading this! Nothing too new this time, just I hope you are liking the action a little better! Disclaimer: These characters are of the property of J.J. Abrams and staff- they are the ones who were nominated for the Emmy!  
  
  
  
  
  
When I woke up, I was definitely not in Moscow. I don't believe Russia for that matter either. I wonder what Dixon thinks? There's always Vaughn, he hopefully heard the conversation take place between Sark and I. Where was I anyway? I was in a bed in a pretty nice bedroom it seemed. I sat up and scanned the room. Nice, a bathroom on the right and some mirrors and closets on the sides. There was a door to the left of the bed and a window across from the bed. I got out of the bed and went over to inspect the scenery.  
  
Bars, on the windows, what's new with that? That means whereever I am, it was designed to hold a prisoner, possibly, but when I looked out, I saw a village. It was nice. It had a German or French flair to it, so that means I could possibly be in either one of those countries or the surrounding ones.  
  
The view was nice. I could see hills in the distance and the people on the street seemed to be happy. I wonder it feels like to be happy. I've spent most of my life either depressed over my crappy family or childhood or the fact I was lonely. The people out there, they looked magnificent, like they were experiencing life at it's fullest. Something I was certainly doing, but maybe not in the best direction.  
  
I was staring out the window out in my own land and didn't even notice the door open. As soon as I felt the hand placed on my shoulder, I quickly turned around.  
  
"I see you have woken up," he says.  
  
"Yes," I say while I head over to sit back on the bed. His hand made my spine tingle. It was the weirdest feeling I had experienced yet.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"Like you care."  
  
He sighed, "More than you think."  
  
"And what's that supposed to mean?" I ask him  
  
"Sydney, my love, you seem to be lost," he declares.  
  
Its official, Sark is crazy. Seriously crazy. Calling me "my love" I'd rather not, no thank you.  
  
"In awe," he says. "I would figure as much."  
  
"Alright, enough of this. What do you want of me?" I ask him.  
  
"Interesting you should ask," he starts.  
  
He decides this would be the best time to sit next to me on the bed. So to react to him, I scoot all the way over. He stars at me funny.  
  
"See, there is this journal, written by Rambaldi. It was his most prized and valued possession. I know your thinking I am talking about the one the CIA has in their possession, but no. There is a second one. Rambaldi refers to it in things relating to work we've done on the circumfrence, so I am sure the second one exists."  
  
"Yes and I'm guessing you know where this second one is," I say.  
  
"Ah, Ms. Bristow, you are indeed smarter than I plan sometimes."  
  
"Yes, we both know that is true, so how about you get to the point?" I angrily say at him.  
  
"A little snippy, aren't we today?" he asks.  
  
"No, it's just I don't enjoy being held hostage."  
  
"Alright, then, I need you to accompany me on a mission to retrieve this journal. It might be difficult, but I plan with our shared resources we will be able to accomplish this easy."  
  
"So what's the mission?" I ask him while giving him the death stare.  
  
"We are going to England, northern England, where Rambaldi has hidden the journal. The only catch is we must attend a party to retrieve the key to the storage cave."  
  
"A Key?" I ask.  
  
"Odd isn't it?" he replies. "This is the only thing I've seen that Rambaldi has used an actual, physical key for. I find it most intriguing."  
  
It was amazing to listen to Sark about Rambaldi. He was so fascinated by it and was very lively when he talked about it. It was rather interesting, actually.  
  
"And if I do this for you, you'll let me go?" I demand.  
  
"I suppose," he ponders. He supposes? How about yes!  
  
"Alright, I guess," I tell him. I might as well get on his good side and a mission I would be able to escape better.  
  
"Good. Then it is set. We will leave tonight. I'll have someone bring you the appropriate supplies and such," he tells me.  
  
Before he stands up to leave, he leans over and kisses me on the cheek. Now, I was officially weirded out by the man.  
  
"And that, if your wondering, is because of your cooperation."  
  
He left then. I felt the need to go clean myself from the germs I possess from just touching that weirdo. Oh well, I might as well shower and get ready for our big mission.  
  
  
  
****Do you like? At all! I would love to hear from you!!!! ~Masquerade!**** 


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: Wow! Can I officially say that all the people who reviewed my last story ROCK! Because you do! I didn't realize how many other people out there like the idea of Sydney and Sark getting together! Well, in response to many pleas to get another chapter out, I write! And I hope you enjoy again to leave me fun reviews! (And thanks for the suggestions- I don't plan on making this another "meaning of Sark" story) Disclaimer: Of course I don't own these wonderful characters, my hero J.J. Abrams does!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The shower felt good. It felt refreshing to be cleansed after a meeting with that scum ball. He said he was going to send me up supplies for the mission, so I hope that was including clothes, because mine weren't exactly the best for a party. I had faith in Sark, so I opened the bathroom door and found an array of boxes and supplies scattered across the bed, which had been made. He certainly does run a little operation here, doesn't he? Probably he frightens his peons so bad that they'd rather not go against his word.  
  
I opened the first box and inside lay some basic clothes to wear on a mission. They were black and deeply resembled the ones I wore in Moscow. There was also some warmer clothes since we were going to northern England. I decided to move onto the second box.  
  
This box had other little additions, my guess they were things to help us with the mission. There was a beautiful diamond necklace (hopefully it was real and I can boost it off of him later) and some other jewelry.  
  
Then, there was the third box. This one was tied up with a beautiful sheer pink ribbon. It looked beautiful from the outside. The box itself was more elegant that the other two. Sark figured I would open this one last. So, I went for it (hoping it wasn't a bomb or anything) and carefully pulled the ribbon open. It gracefully came apart and fell to the sides of the box. I lifted off the top very carefully to find a note placed carefully on top of the tissue.  
  
"Ms. Bristow,  
  
I'm most delighted that you have decided to join me on this adventure. I most hope you will be the best partner for this mission. Please wear the item below to the party and have the other clothing available for our other excursion. I hope you most enjoyed your shower. I will talk with you in two shakes.  
  
-Sark"  
  
He certainly did keep tabs on me, did I enjoy my shower? I was rather grossed out by that thought. Anyway, I decided to see what Sark had chosen for me to wear to the party. So, I pulled back the tissue paper and saw a bright pink dress. I pulled it out of the box and found it to be the most beautiful dress I had ever laid my eyes on. SD-6 certainly couldn't beat this. What, did Sark have this lying around for whenever I might happen to want to accompany him to a party? Or did he have one of his peons run out and fetch it for him? Always debatable.  
  
I decided to see for myself how the dress looked on me. So I slipped off my bathrobe and carefully put it on. It was most magnificent. I wasn't exactly sure if it was the best dress to be running in during a mission, but Sark would know best, I guess. Right? It was a bright magenta and flowed all the way down to the floor, where it puffed out slightly. It had a halter-top that was laced in small diamond specks that made swirls that swirled across the entire dress. It was certainly magnificent. As I was staring in the mirror at myself, I couldn't believe how magical it was. If only it wasn't under these circumstances, maybe Vaughn could have seen..  
  
That's when I felt it again. His hand. He placed it on my back this time where my skin was bare. Once again, I felt my spine shiver with his touch. It was definitely stirring.  
  
"I see you like your present," he says.  
  
"Yes, it's nice," I muster out. I couldn't let him know how much I liked it. That would only be letting him win. I had to have the upper hand in this.  
  
"You seem to be enjoying it more than that, I can see it in your eyes," he tells me.  
  
Oh, he's interpreting my eyes now? Remember when I said he was crazy? I take that back, Sark is insane.  
  
"Oh really?" I reply. I didn't want to give too much out.  
  
"Indeed, well, I think we must be getting ready to depart. I suggest you put those other pieces of clothing on until we reach our destination," he says.  
  
"And what will you be wearing tonight?" I had to ask. It was more of a joke for me, but I wanted to see what kind of response I would get from him.  
  
"A surprise. I thought I would keep you most entertained so I figured I would leave my appearance to be a surprise," he rebounds. Go figure.  
  
"Alright," I say.  
  
"Once you are ready, head down stairs with your belongings. One of my men will take it for you," he tells me.  
  
You mean one of your peons, right? No, that's right, they're his "men".  
  
"Okay."  
  
And that was that. He whisked out of the room, black leather coat and all, and obviously was heading down to get ready as well. This certainly was going to be an interesting mission.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~Please review! I love them soo much!~~~ Masquerade 


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes: Reviews, again, rock. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I have some really great stuff planned for the mission, but I know I am being evil by spacing it out! I hope you enjoy this read! Disclaimer: J.J. Abrams and his lovely associates are the true creators of these characters, not I.  
  
  
  
  
  
I headed downstairs being accompanied by two very bulky guards. Normally guards don't scare me that much because I give them a good punch or kick in the face and knock them out. These guys though, they have to be like Sark's biggest. He must be doing it to intimidate me. I had put on the clothes he instructed me too and held the box with all the other items. At the bottom of the steps, a smaller man stood.  
  
"Mr. Sark has informed me that I should take your belongings," the peewee man said.  
  
"Yes, here you are," I say as I pass him the box. He then scurries of to knows where.  
  
"Mr. Sark wants you to meet him at the plane," goon #1 tells me.  
  
"Alright," I reply. Keep it short and sweet with these guys.  
  
We headed out back and from what I could tell, this was a very large, and nice, apartment. It was probably Sark's own apartment or something to that effect. They escorted me to a black sedan (of course black) in the back. The car ride was very short. On the way there, I saw a sign that said "Best Dolls in all of Austria" in front of one store in German. So, by my greats powers of deduction, it was determined I was indeed in Austria. Simple enough.  
  
We arrived at the airstrip and the two goons escort me to and on to the plane. It was a smaller jet, probably Sark's personal aircraft to avoid any risks. It was very nice. My guess, it used to be my mother's, but he got possession of it with her organization. I went toward the back and sat down in the only other available seat, right next to Sark.  
  
"How are we doing, Ms. Bristow?" he asks in his cocky voice.  
  
"Oh fine, how about you?" I reply to him in the same tone.  
  
"Excellent. Now, I hope you enjoy your flight here. Probably better service than you get running around on missions for SD-6 or the CIA, right?"  
  
"That seems to be the case, I see." Good job Sydney, remark back to him in the same way.  
  
"While we have the time, I thought I would take the opportunity to go over the mission specks," he informs me.  
  
"Sounds like the best bet, but as soon as we're done, I'd like to get a little shut-eye, if you know what I mean."  
  
"Of course," he replies. He then whips out his laptop and pulls down a table from the wall in front of us. He places it onto the table and opens a few diagrams and files. I will admit, Sark was organized. He did know what he was doing. He put the laptop in front of the both of us.  
  
"We will be going in as Natalie and Antony Franco. In short, the party is to recognize the 25th wedding anniversary of Mark and Jenny North. We will be the great cousins of Jenny who she has never met. Just follow my lead and it would be best if you just nodded and smiled."  
  
"You have no faith in me? I have done these things before, you know," I tell him.  
  
"Don't worry, Ms. Bristow, I'm fully aware of your capabilities when it comes to these sorts of things. I don't want you to screw this up for me." Harsh words there, weren't they?  
  
"I'll try not to, too often," I reply.  
  
"That would be best. Anyway, when we get into the party we will have to make it out to the patio, which from my intel will be closed off, so we'll have to do some interesting work there."  
  
"And let's define 'interesting work', I'm a little shaky on that topic," I say.  
  
"We'll wing it," he replies.  
  
"Ooh, I don't know about that," I wittily reply.  
  
"Anyway, the key is located in the back yard shed in a small vault that was recently installed. I have all the necessary tools to get it open."  
  
"What? A little C4?" I ask.  
  
"Nice try, Ms. Bristow, but no," he says.  
  
"And while we're on the subject, why do you insist on calling me 'Ms. Bristow' in this tone that makes it sound derogatory?" I demand of him.  
  
"I figure it would keep our acquaintances more formal," he says.  
  
"Hmm. very interesting. And also, we all know you as Sark. What's your real name anyway?" I ask him. It was getting good. I was pulling out the punches like a punching bag.  
  
"I don't see why that is relevant, Ms. Bristow."  
  
"You know my first name, it's not like it's classified information or anything. What, you afraid if people can put a real name to your face that you might feel bad about killing them?" I tell him.  
  
"It's not that. I'm sick of this, so I am going to get a drink," he tells me.  
  
Man, Sark was getting all defensive on the name thing. That only means one thing. I must bug him consistently about it this whole time. He got up from his chair and went to the bar. He poured two drinks and tried to hand me one.  
  
"Oh no you didn't, Sark. I'm not drinking anything you give me," I say.  
  
"It's just a little glass of water, I thought you might like it. You seem a little..tense."  
  
"Yes, and how do I not know that you didn't spike it with some drug to make me crazy or something. I can get my own water, thank you," I reply.  
  
"Fine then."  
  
"Good."  
  
And that was it. We both sat in our chairs, he leaned in the opposite direction and did some typing on his laptop. If I was being super spy, I would have looked to see what he was writing. But at this point, I needed a nap so I leaned to the window and dazed off. Dealing with Sark is certainly stressful.  
  
  
  
  
  
~Review, please! It's like presents on Christmas!~ Masquerade 


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Notes: Thanks again for all the great reviews. And I hope you guys and gals enjoy this chapter, because I certainly think you will. And I have some GREAT things planned for the not so far future, but you'll still have to wait! Enjoy, and of course, please review.  
  
Disclaimer: Of course, I don't own this, J.J. Abrams does!!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I slowly opened my eyes and noticed I was lying down. In someone's lap too. And that person was, stroking my hair. That's right. I could tell it was him. The shivers came back again. I tried not too move too fast, but gently I turned my head up to see Sark staring off into space while gently stroking my hair. How did I get here, anyway? I fell asleep with my head against the wall and I wake up lying down in Sark's lap.  
  
"Hey," he says.  
  
"Uh, hi," I reply.  
  
"Did you enjoy your rest?"  
  
"Well, I suppose, but I guess I am a little, how do I say it, confused?"  
  
He smiled at that comment, "I guess you would be, right?"  
  
Was I seeing "Gentle Sark" or something? Quite interesting, let me tell you.  
  
"Well, yes."  
  
He continued to stroke my hair still. At this point, wouldn't you have guessed he would have stopped? That's what I thought. But no, he kept on going.  
  
"You seemed restless in the other sleeping position you were tempting, so I thought I would make your rest a little more enjoyable," he replies. Very factual, but very interesting.  
  
"I see," I say.  
  
"Yes, I had nothing else to work on, so I guess it was the only thing to keep me busy," he informs me.  
  
"And by keeping busy, that requires you to stroke my hair?" I ask him.  
  
At that point, he pulls away fast. Interesting, don't you think?  
  
"It was relaxing for me as well," he informs me.  
  
"I see," I reply.  
  
"We should be arriving shortly," he tells me.  
  
"Sounds great."  
  
"Would you, um, like anything?" he asks me. His tone was like that of a high school boy asking the popular girl to Prom.  
  
"I guess I could take you up on that water, as long as I get to watch you intently prepare it," I tell him.  
  
"I wouldn't worry, Ms. Bristow, I wasn't planning on harming you before the mission."  
  
"So after is still up for grabs?" I ask.  
  
"The possibilities are endless, I suppose," he replies.  
  
I gently sit up and he proceeds to walk over to the bar and make my water, which as far as I could tell, purely water. He brings it back over to me and places it into my hands.  
  
"Mm. refreshing," I say.  
  
"I would most hope so," Sark replies.  
  
"Oh, and by the way, you can call me Sydney," I say. He looks at me with his big eyes and is stunned. It appears I have a new grown respect for the man and this requires a little better familiarity on our parts.  
  
"Uh, okay," he can only muster out.  
  
"Yes."  
  
That's when it happens. You know when you are in a conversation and the uncomfortable silence appears and everyone stairs at the floor. Yes, that's what happened. I didn't want to start or anything, because who knows what I could bring up.  
  
"Andrew," he says.  
  
"What?" I ask.  
  
"Andrew, is my first name," he informs me. He actually told me. This was a big step for me. He told me his first name!  
  
"That's a nice name," I reply.  
  
"As soon as I joined the organization, no one has called me Andrew anymore."  
  
"Why?" I ask. I wouldn't mind getting a little into Sark's mind for future reference.  
  
He touches my hand and gently intertwines our fingers. "You see, when I joined, your mother thought it best I go by Mr. Sark. She said it sounded more intimidating."  
  
"It does, doesn't it?" I say.  
  
"Yes. It's weird even saying it anymore, Andrew. Anyway, I see we have landed, you ready to do this?" he asks me and squeezes my hand and releases.  
  
"You bet," I reply.  
  
  
  
  
  
We exited the plane with Goons #1-4 in tow that carried our belongings. In the short walk to the car, Sark had proceeded to link us arm to arm, as if we were a couple getting off the plan. The shiver, it came back, again. It was most magnificent. Our walking off that plane to the car felt magical, almost. We got into the first car and there was a new driver. Sark must have known him, because he started to chit-chat with him on directions where to go. Goon #1 sat in the front seat and the other 3 were in a car behind us. So, it was just Sark and I in the back seat.  
  
"We're going to a little place I have to get ready for tonight," he informs me.  
  
"Alright," I reply.  
  
"We have about six hours to get ready and such and we'll want to leave by 5. My assistants will take your other necessary items to the other location where we will work out of for the retrieval of the journal." You know what, when Sark wants to be, he can be very mission ready. He seems so in tune to the job.  
  
"Sounds good," I meekly reply.  
  
"I wouldn't be afraid," he says.  
  
"And should I?" I ask.  
  
"Be afraid, you seem like it. Your heart rate is all over the place," he tells me.  
  
"Oh, I get like that before any mission. It's just the thrill of it all," I tell him. Going for Sydney 1, Sark 0.  
  
"I see," he replies.  
  
"Is anyone going to be there?" I ask.  
  
"That you know?"  
  
"Pretty much," I say.  
  
"My intel shows that SD-6 may know of this operation. However, my resources show that they have been investing more of their time into the recovery operation of you," Sark says.  
  
"Really?" I gasp at that notion.  
  
"If you know anyone in the room, you notify me immediately, understood. And if you don't, and I find out, you may not be so happy with my response," Sark tells me.  
  
"Understood," I reply.  
  
"Good. Now we should be to the cottage in 10 minutes, any other questions?"  
  
"Uh, no," I say.  
  
"Okay," he says. That was it, then he proceeded to startle me by placing his fingers in between mine. I look up at him and smile, only to notice he already is. What was going on between Sark and I? I honestly had no idea. None at all.  
  
  
  
We got to the cottage no problem. It was actually in the middle of a small forest, so it was fairly secluded. It was nice, and the room Sark gave me to use was nice and obviously used by a woman. It had many bath oils and hair tools. I wonder if Sark new this on purpose? To let me get ready to my fullest or something of the other. On my bed the Goons had already placed my boxes there. I went into the bathroom and decided to shower and wash my hair for the interesting party we were to attend tonight.  
  
After my shower, I headed out in the conveniently provided bathrobe and had to locate a hair dryer. It just so happened that my room did not have a hair dryer, which I myself was amazed by. So I knocked on the room next door and in a second Sark appeared at the door.  
  
"Yes, Ms. Bristow, I mean, Sydney," he says.  
  
"I need a blow dryer," I say.  
  
"Ah yes, hold on one moment." He shuts his door and I wait outside the door for a minute or two. He then opened the door enough to pass it through and mutter a "here you go" and shut the door fast. What was he doing in there? Planning a world master plan of destruction or something? Oh well, I headed to my room to get ready. I wanted to look my best tonight, for some odd reason.  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~AHH! I know, but if you like it, Review!~~~ Masquerade 


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Notes: Well, once again, a shout out to all my great reviewers who truly inspire me to continue this story. I never knew how many people could rock my world by reviewing my story! So I hope you continue, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the lovely characters of Alias, J.J. Abrams et all does!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I had done my hair up in this nice up-do that Francie had taught me to do the other night. We were trying to have a girls night in, but I had ended up falling asleep ten minutes in to the movie, that we had started at 8. Anyway, we were messing around with each other's hair and she showed me this cute do that I decided would be best for tonight. I found some glitter on the vanity and sprinkled it lightly in my hair. I decided that it was time for me to put on my dress.  
  
I carefully took the dress out of the box and placed it on the bed. I smoothed it out and noticed the shimmering beauty of it all. It was so beautiful and I felt honored to be even allowed to wear. I gently put it on, making sure not to rip a single thread. Why did I care so much about this mission, this dress, my hair, everything? I was certainly acting strange, wasn't I? I had to shrug it off and just get this over with. Or did I want to get it over it?  
  
I looked up from the floor and into the mirror. I felt like a princess. I closed my eyes for a minute just to ponder. Why was I here in this spot at this time? That's when I felt it. Gently someone had placed a necklace onto my neck and clasped it. I pulled my hand to feel it and someone grabbed my hand before I could. It was the touch again, the one touch that made my spine shiver. It was him.  
  
"Hello," I say and turn around to greet him. He was stunning. It certainly cleaned up rather well. He then took my hand he had grabbed and gently pulled it up and kissed it. It was certainly enchanting.  
  
"Greetings, my love, Sydney," he replies after the kiss.  
  
I look down at the necklace he had placed on my hand. I gently fingered it with my hand and it was beautiful. It wasn't in the box, so I didn't know where it came from.  
  
"Do you like it?" he asks me.  
  
"Honestly? Yes, it's beautiful," I reply. Sometimes, I just had to be honest with the man. For how much it killed me, I had too.  
  
"I thought you would most enjoy wearing it tonight. You look magnificent, Sydney," he says again, stressing the use of my first name.  
  
"Why, thank you," I say quietly.  
  
"Are you about ready to head out? The cars are ready to go," he informs me.  
  
"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess," I reply.  
  
"Then we shall leave." He links my arm in his and we walk hand in hand to the front door, which he opens for me. Then, when we walk to the car, he opens the door for me, not one of his many goons. He did look rather stunning. It was probably one of the only times that I had seen him not sporting his trademark black leather coat. It was nice for a change.  
  
  
  
  
  
We both sat in the car and we sat in silence, hand in hand, until we reached the gate of the party. The car identified us and the guards let the car pass. Sark gives my hand one last squeeze and gives me one last reminder.  
  
"Remember, you are Natalie Franco and I am Antony. You are all aware of our new history together, right?" he asks.  
  
"Completely," I say and the door swings open by a worker at the party. I step out of the car and the nice man helps me out of the car. Sark quickly exits behind me and quickly whisks me out of the man's hand, claiming me as his own. We walk arm in arm into the party where Sark identifies us as "Natalie and Antony Franco" and we are quickly let in. There are many people already there and the house was a beautiful Victorian house. Probably built in the late 1800s. I scanned the room to see if I recognized anyone. So far, no one was there I knew. A good thing, I think.  
  
"Let's dance," he tells me. He takes my hand and we lock our bodies to dance as the others were. We gently floated across the floor and it felt so perfect. I looked up into Sark's eyes. At that moment, he looked directly into mine too. It was mysterical. He then leans in to my ear.  
  
"Is anyone here?" he asks me.  
  
"Not that I know of, yet, anyway," I reply quietly back into his ear. Then I gently lean up against him and our dancing turned into a slow version with the music. We swayed back and forth to the music and it was wonderful. Why was I acting like this around Sark? I was supposed to hate him and despise him and want him killed. But I was enjoying his company more than anyone else I knew, except for Vaughn, and almost more than him right now. We danced until the song ended and then he leaned into me.  
  
He whispered, "It's time."  
  
So I followed him as planned, as if we were looking for somewhere to have some quiet time. He obviously had done his homework because we were able to get to a door that led to the patio. We quickly went out onto the patio and Sark surveyed the situation. From what I could tell, no guards were on the patio. We were in luck.  
  
We looked over at the shed. It was a fair distance from the house and it would be difficult to get there without any guards noticing if there was any.  
  
"We're going to run to the shed, okay?" he says.  
  
"Okay," I reply.  
  
So we start to run over to the shed and get there fine, but there must have been some guards in the area and they heard us. They started to run toward the shed and Sark did the most unbelievable thing.  
  
He started to kiss me. It just started as a plain kiss, to look normal enough, and not to have to break the barrier between us, but then he pushed it further. The kiss grew deeper and by the time the guards had gotten there, we were pushed up against the wall in an all out tonsil-war. I do have to admit, Sark is a pretty good kisser. It seemed perfect, that moment, kissing him. I almost wanted it to last forever, but the slight push of a flashlight it to my back stopped it.  
  
"Excuse-moi?" I say. How rude of them, to interrupt our kissing. It was only half-true, but hey, it was partially.  
  
"This is a restricted area, no guests of the party are supposed to be here," the bulky guard informs us. We already knew that, little did he know. There were only two guards, so Sark looks me straight in the eye, and we simultaneously attack the guards. I took the smaller one and Sark had the bigger one and we easily took them down. We then put the bodies behind the shed and head inside. Sark and I still had a lot to talk about after that kiss, but the mission came first.  
  
  
  
~Enjoy, again? Tell me! Review a line or two!~ Masquerade 


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Notes: I don't even know how to thank all my great reviewers. I hope you like the direction I am taking this story and I hope you'll tell me your opinion of it! Well, this one's my longest Chapter yet, so enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own any of the wonderful characters of Alias, J.J. Abrams et all do!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I slowly stayed right behind Sark as we carefully maneuvered through the shed. It was a pretty big garden shed and had a lot of crap in it, most likely on purpose. Sark pushed stuff out of the way and we quickly made our way to the back of the shed. There was supposed to be a loose board that would open where the safe would be. I watched as Sark knocked on the boards and successfully located the board and pulled in back and sure enough, there laid a safe.  
  
He looked at me and pulled out a small lock decoder out of his pocket. It actually appeared to be a cell phone, so that's how he got it past the security. It placed it onto the lock and it quickly popped open. At that point, I went to stand on the other side of Sark due to the fact the door opened my way and I wanted to see.  
  
Inside the safe there were a few other valuables, but Sark obviously knew what too look for, because soon enough, he found a little wooden box that looked very old. He opened it and in it there was a stone.  
  
"I thought you said there was a key?" I ask.  
  
"This must be a key in the eyes of Rambaldi," he replies.  
  
He does have a point. Rambaldi wasn't stupid, he wouldn't have just left an actual, physical key. The stone was oddly shaped, so my assumption was that it would be placed in something to get the lock undone.  
  
He locked everything back up and took my hand and we carefully maneuvered our way back out of the shed. Sark peered out first, probably to make sure the coast was clear. It must have been, since we proceeded out of the shed.  
  
He whispers into my ear, "Just walk casually back to the house, as if we had a little private time, if you understand my lead."  
  
I smile at him. He was definitely cute and someone could defiantly see me taking him up on any offer. So I attach myself to his arm as if we were two lovebirds. He could feel his warmth emanating and it was wonderful. It did get a little chilly out. We made our way back into the house and headed toward the door. Then, something unexpected happened.  
  
"Sark," I whispered.  
  
"What?" he replied.  
  
"Dixon, he's here," I whisper. As much as I wanted to give myself into SD-6 at that point, I didn't really feel the need. One simple little mission with Sark wasn't going to ruin the world, so I planned on finishing it. Plus, if I got a chance to see what was in the journal, I could relay the message to the CIA.  
  
Sark scanned the room and saw Dixon as well. He takes a hold of me and leads me the opposite way that Dixon was walking. We both make sure to keep our heads out of Dixon's range of view and make it out of the house and safely past the gate. The guard looked at us funny as we walked out, but it was a midnight stroll, down the lane.  
  
At that point we were pretty far from the house and I was still attached to Sark like before. He didn't seem to mind it, that was for sure. We were about halfway to the house when we heard something behind us. Sark stopped, scanned the area.  
  
"Someone's here," he whispers.  
  
He was certainly right, because the next thing I know, someone's got a gun to my head.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Sark," the man says. I wasn't sure who it was, I didn't recognize the voice, so I knew it wasn't Dixon. That would be too much explaining to do.  
  
"Why hello," he replies. It was obviously someone he disliked, because he used that awful accent to show displeasure at it's finest.  
  
"And who would this be joining you on this lovely evening?" he asks Sark.  
  
Sark looks at me, giving me a worried look. "She is a friend."  
  
A friend? What is Sark playing with now. And who was this guy with the gun to my head. I was mostly not enjoying it so.  
  
"I see, so, how about you give me the key, or I blow your friend's head off," the unknown man says.  
  
"How about not?" Sark says. He was sticking up for me? It was soooo sweet of him. I was almost going to cry for that.  
  
Then, Sark pulls out his gun and with one quick shot, he is able to barely miss me and shoot the unknown man down. It was scary, let me tell you that. I don't think I've ever had a bullet come that close to me without actually hitting me.  
  
"Sorry about that," Sark starts. I run up to him and give him a hug. Then, he pulled away for a second, and leans in and kisses me. This time, it wasn't to fake it or anything, it was actually to kiss me.  
  
"Wow," I say after we both pull back.  
  
"Let's go, I don't want to be around when his friends get here," he tells me.  
  
We started running now, unlike the walk we were exhibiting before. The sooner we got back to the cottage, the sooner Sark could answer my questions.  
  
  
  
  
  
We both arrived back to the cottage safely and Sark has his goons on "high alert" as he puts it. We decide to get changed and meet in the living room when we're done. I changed out of my magical dress, which now was slightly ripped and dirty, and put on some sweatpants and a sweater I found in a drawer. The house was a bit chilly and I wanted to be nice and warm.  
  
I came out of my room to find Sark starting a fire in the fireplace. Not one of his goons, but himself. It was rather astonishing. I stood from behind and admired his efforts to get the fire started, and ended up coming over to help him.  
  
"I saw you might need some help," I say.  
  
"I was trying to do this on my own," he tells me. "But if you're offering."  
  
I help him get the wood into place and we do this all in silence, except for the few comments here and there. We finally get the fire a blazing, so we both stand up and relax.  
  
"That was certainly stressful," he states.  
  
"You think that's stressful?" I question him.  
  
"I guess you do have a point," he replies.  
  
I decide to head over to the couch. It look comfortable and comfort is what I needed right now. Sark followed behind me and sat down right next to me on the couch.  
  
"Who was that man? The one who had the gun to my head?" I ask him.  
  
"His name is Mark Summer, we go way back, we both started in intelligence at the same time, but I was a little bit better than him," he tells me.  
  
"Who does he work for?" I ask.  
  
"Last time I checked, he was doing freelance work for smaller organizations, but what intrigues me is that none of them are Rambaldi collectors, so he must be working for someone new."  
  
"Okay," I reply. I shiver because of the coldness of the cabin and Sark takes notice. He stands up and grabs a blanket from the cupboard.  
  
"Here you are," he gives me the wool, warm blanket.  
  
"Why, thank you," I tell him.  
  
We both stare at the fire in silence and admire its beauty. It was almost ironic, in a sense. I was this girl who was ultimately doing all to take down his organization, yet we combined our forces to make a fire. It was certainly, unexpected, I suppose.  
  
I decide at that point to scoot over to sit next to Sark. He was looking cold as well, so I figured we could share the blanket and share our bodies warmth. He looked at me funny at first, but then gives me a smile.  
  
"This is ironic, don't you suppose," he says.  
  
"Funny you mention it, I just thought the same thing," I reply.  
  
"Indeed," he only musters out. Neither of us wants to bring it up, but at the same time, it haunts us both. We both want to say it, but neither of us wants the reaction from the other.  
  
"I know what you want to talk about, and I have the same wishes as well," I start.  
  
"I know," he only says. The look in his eyes is impossible to interpret. It has so many meanings.  
  
Then, he does what I thought he might. He starts to kiss me again.  
  
  
  
~~~Reviews, rock! Leave me one!!!~~~ Masquerade 


	9. Chapter 9

lAuthor's Notes: Everyone enjoy last night's ep? I sure did! Anyway, thanks again for all the great reviews (I'm over 50! Whoo hoo!) and keep them coming! They help me write better and faster! (by the way, this is my longest chapter yet, so major hype, eh!)  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own these fine characters, ABC + J.J. Abrams luckily do!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
As much as I wanted to enjoy our kiss, I had to pull back. I had to know why Sark is doing this, kissing me. More so, I had to know why I was kissing him back. It seemed so wrong, but it felt so perfect. I didn't know what to feel. I was enjoying working with Sark when I should be despising it and trying to find a way out of here. Yet, I was sitting in front of a fire that we both made kissing Sark.  
  
"Wait," I say.  
  
"Yes?" he replies.  
  
"Why do we keep, um, kissing?" I had to ask.  
  
"A mighty find question, Sydney, I know you are trying to find a reason to not kiss me, yet your conscious is telling you to continue."  
  
"Yet, you still didn't answer my question," I tell him.  
  
"I suppose I didn't, did I?" he says.  
  
"Well, it's just that, Sark, you and I both know that we shouldn't be like this. We should be at each other's throats trying to kill each other, yet, we're kissing in front of a beautiful fireplace," I state.  
  
"Your points seem to be valid, but yet, they are not true in some respects, but why?" he asks me.  
  
"I've been asking myself that over and over. Honestly, I can't figure out," I state.  
  
"You say we're kissing in front of a beautiful fireplace," he recalls.  
  
"Yes, and?" I reply.  
  
"I say I'm kissing a beautiful woman," he says and stuns me. It's taking me a second to comprehend all this, in which I think I forgot to breathe.  
  
"Are you okay, Sydney, you appear as if a ghost appeared," he tells me.  
  
"I'm okay, it's just, this whole thing, and that little statement, it's like so romantic, and it's just hard for me to comprehend you being romantic, that's all," I tell him.  
  
"That, is truly understood, but sometimes, you have to separate work and personal life. One thing you've had problems separating in your past," he informs me. That was a little mean, but he did have a valid point.  
  
I look down. This was all too much to handle. Sark and I weren't getting anywhere, either. He wasn't being really deep, but vague. I just wanted to cry right now.  
  
"Sydney," I says and places his hand on my cheek. His touch once again made my spine shiver. That was it. His touch was magical and had to mean something.  
  
"I don't know what to say right now," he tells me.  
  
"That's a first, wouldn't it be?" I reply.  
  
"True," he says and sighs. "Our lives have taken a major shift recently, haven't they?"  
  
"Yes, and neither of us can handle it," I say.  
  
"I remember the first time your mother showed me your profile," he tells me. "It was sitting open on her desk and I was a new recruit in the organization. I went into her office to go over a mission and it was sitting there, your picture. You hadn't switched over yet, but your mother seemed confident you would soon."  
  
"When was that?" I ask him.  
  
"Two years ago," he informs me.  
  
"You've only been with her for two years and now you possess all her assets?" I ask him.  
  
"I know, I rose through the chain pretty fast, didn't I?" he remarks in that somewhat cocky attitude.  
  
"Did, she ever, what I mean to say is, did she ever want you to kill me?" I had to ask him. I had to get some better intel on my mother and Sark seemed pretty open right now.  
  
"She informed that it was possible to run into you on a mission, and that the foremost priority of the organization was to capture you, not kill you. I could never come to kill you, if I had to," he says. He became very quiet after that.  
  
"Thank you," I say quietly to respond. Then, I scoot up to be lying with him on the couch. We snuggled in each other's warmth and soon fell asleep.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I woke up early that morning still to be lying with Sark on the couch. I just sat still and gazed into the ashes of the fire to think. We did have an interesting conversation last night, but it didn't resolve in any true answers. I don't know if we ever will be able to have a true conversation. Did we only kiss each other because we needed each other? Or do some real feelings exist? There had to be some answers.  
  
I felt Sark getting up, his body was shifting. I turned my head to meet his and he was awake as well. We stared into each other's eyes for a minute until Sark spoke.  
  
"Good morning," he says in his oh so cherry accent.  
  
"Buenos dias," I reply.  
  
"Had to go Spanish on me, did we?" he asks.  
  
"I thought I might want to throw it into the mix, if you were actually wondering," I reply.  
  
He smiles at me, then leans it, places a nice peck on the cheek, and shifts me so he can get out. I obviously blushed and he smiled when that occurred.  
  
"Would you like to join me on a morning run?" he asks me.  
  
"Isn't it dangerous?" I reply.  
  
"Actually, I know a little trail that no one is aware of. I'll have one of my men join us as well," he says.  
  
"Sounds good. I'll go grab some shoes," I reply.  
  
I went into my room, grabbed the shoes and went out onto the front porch, where Sark was already waiting. He gave me a nod and we were off. We remained quiet for most of the run, Sark was in lead, I followed behind him, and one of his goons followed close, but not too close behind. We finished and we had ran for about 45 minutes. It felt good just to run and take in the surroundings. Sark and his Goon could actually keep up with me, which was surprising. We returned back to the house, and Sark wasn't exactly the happiest.  
  
I see that someone had came to the cottage and killed the rest of Sark's security detail. I had a gun with me, Sark did, and so did his goon, so we all carefully enter the house. It was in shambles. Someone obviously had come looking for the key, but Sark planned for something like this and kept it in his pocket during our run. We looked in the entire house and no one was left. I wonder if it was someone getting Sark back for killing Mark Summer. That mystery I guess would have to wait.  
  
"Get your stuff, I called our car, it's here, we're leaving," he tells me.  
  
  
  
  
  
The car took us to the airstrip we had landed the plane on and under Sark's direction, we got back on his personal jet. We did this and the next thing we were up in the air, headed for the northern location of the journal. Hopefully we wouldn't have any surprises at the location.  
  
We were on the plane when Sark received a phone call. He stood up and went to the front of the plane. He was speaking in all hushed tones, so obviously he didn't want me to hear. It was possibly information on those who ransacked the cottage. I occasionally glanced back at him and the tone of his voice seemed worried. It was certainly, interesting.  
  
When Sark returned back at his seat, he held a glass of, I believe, Scotch, and just looked like he needed to unwind. I took his free hand and held on to it. He looked over at me and could emit a smile through all of it. Something was up.  
  
"Want to tell me what's going on?" I ask him.  
  
"What do you mean?" he replies. He's going for the non-knowing approach.  
  
"Now seriously, you of all people should know you can't lie to me," I tell him.  
  
"I suppose that is true, wouldn't it be?" he quietly replies.  
  
"Something bad happen?" I muster out.  
  
"Normally that seems to be the case, isn't it?" he says.  
  
"Always is, so how about you share? I always have to talk to my friend when ever I am down about something," I tell him.  
  
"Who, your Vaughn?" he asks me.  
  
Vaughn. That's right. I wonder how he's been doing through all of this. I've probably had him worried sick. I felt so bad. He would hopefully thank me later, if I could get Sark in my pocket.  
  
"Yes, on occasion I do speak to Vaughn," I reply.  
  
"Well, if you honestly want to know," he starts.  
  
"Yes, I do," I tell him and grasp a hold of his hand again for comfort.  
  
"At the same time someone had ransacked the house, simultaneous attacks occurred on three other locations of mine. Some of them held some of my research and artifacts, but the other one was just a random location. And honestly, I don't know who's doing it," he informs me.  
  
"I had not heard that SD-6 or the CIA was planning such an attack, before I left anyway," I tell him.  
  
"I highly doubt it was those two. Or any branch of the Alliance for that matter. They don't have enough courage to do such a thing."  
  
"That certainly is true," I say.  
  
"Anyway, I'll get over it. And they didn't attack my operations center so I honestly don't have to worry too much."  
  
His operations center? Hmm. I wonder if that's where we're going.  
  
"Uh, Sark, where are we going, anyway? I thought we were supposed to be going to northern England to get the Rambaldi journal?" I ask him.  
  
"I suppose, but our plans have slightly altered. Due to the recent attacks, I must return to my operations center to assess the damage, this little mission will have to wait," he replies.  
  
"What? But when will I get to go home?" I ask him.  
  
"You weren't minding it before," he tells me.  
  
"I know, I do enjoy your company, but this can't last forever!" I reply.  
  
"Why not? You could stay with me and work with me. We'd be the perfect pair. And you know about our physical attraction as it is, so that could increase," he implies to me.  
  
He was asking me to work for him again? Oh gosh.  
  
"Well, once again, I'm going to pass on the offer," I inform him.  
  
"Why?" he asks.  
  
"Because I work for the good guys, and you my friend, are definitely a bad guy," I reply.  
  
"So that's what it comes down to?" he asks me.  
  
"Basically, yes."  
  
"That's not the way it should be, Sydney, we're enjoying each other, you and I both know this, so stay with me," he pushes onto me.  
  
"I'd rather not," I reply.  
  
"Sydney, I've seen you work, I've worked with you and against you. And through all of it, I've only been able to deduce one thing from it. I'm in love with you."  
  
  
  
~You like that? Tell me how much!~ Masquerade 


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Notes: WOW! What can I say! Sorry for the long time to post a new chapter, but you know how life gets! The reviews keep coming! Because of a couple of requests, I've changed this chapter into Sark's POV. A couple of my esteemed reviewers asked for it, and it didn't sound like a bad idea, so I had to think. So I hope you enjoy what I've done with it, and if you hate it, well, you might as well tell me!  
  
Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the wonderful characters of Alias, J.J. Abrams, ABC, et all does!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
****Sark POV****  
  
  
  
  
  
I had said it. The three dreadful words that Irena had told me to use only under the most important circumstances dealing with this matter. I never thought I would have to use them. However, Sydney is smart.  
  
"You what?" she replies back at me. I don't think that went as well as I would have hoped for, wouldn't you agree?  
  
"Everything about you Sydney, you're a gift from above," I tell her. It was true, I did think that. The fact was, Irena wanted us to get together. It was all apart of her great plan. Once she left, she told me it was my responsibility to get Sydney on our side and if it was achieved, she would return. Honestly, I didn't mind it that much. I did have some feelings for Sydney. She was certainly a wonderful spy.  
  
"I honestly don't know what to say to you," she tells me. Is that a good thing or bad thing? I normally try to stay out of relationships like this.  
  
"Don't you have to admit though, we've had some major connections in the past few days, we've kissed on numerous occasions," I start.  
  
"Yes, we have, but why?" she replies. Well, I wouldn't exactly launch into the total details of Irena's great plan, but I could give her part of the truth.  
  
"Because, as I said it before, it's because of my admiration of you, Sydney, I think you are not only an excellent agent, but an excellent person, one that I would enjoy spending time with," I told her. A pretty decent little thing considering I had to come up with it on my feet. How could I tell her though how much I did really care about her? I don't know how to do it without doing something crazy.  
  
"I don't know anymore, I'm so confused by you," she tells me. She's confused?  
  
"What's there to be confused about, my love?" I reply.  
  
"Can't I just go home?" she says. No, my dear, you can't. I need you.  
  
"I'm afraid not right now, our mission is not done," I reply. Little did she know that the whole rock thing and the second Rambaldi journal was fabricated. However, she seemed to be playing it very well. She didn't even take to notice that the men that were "killed" only had been shot with extra powerful tranquilizer darts. She is a very skilled agent, but a little oblivious.  
  
"So when are you really going to tell me what's going on?" she demands. Not so soon, my dear.  
  
"I would tell you, but your trust right now seems a little, untrustable, we'll say."  
  
"Fine," she mutters and then ignores me and eventually falls asleep. About time too, I needed to do some items without her to annoy me. We were getting towards our destination, my lovely operations center. Hopefully, Irena hasn't pulled any thing on the CIA and actually tell them where it is. If she did, I honestly need to have a chat with that woman as soon as possible.  
  
  
  
We safely arrived in Warsaw, in Poland, in a timely fashion and I had the nice honor of waking Sydney. Something I was not exactly looking forward to, but had to attend to.  
  
"Sydney, we're here," I say in my nicest, cheeriest voice I could muster out without killing myself.  
  
"Fine," she replies and quickly gets up and we then exit the plane. We head into the car waiting and we were on our little way.  
  
In the car, I was reading something when I noticed that Sydney was peering over my shoulder.  
  
"May I help you, Ms. Bristow?" I ask her.  
  
"So, we're in Warsaw?" she replies.  
  
"I'm glad you understand and can name cities by their appearances, that's quite the accomplishment," I sarcastically reply back.  
  
"Very funny," she musters back. "Why are we here? Is this where your operation center is?"  
  
"Not quite, but close," I tell her.  
  
"Why Poland? Why would my mother pick Poland?" she asks me.  
  
"Why? I don't think you honestly want to know," I can only tell her. I don't think she would like to know the ways of her mother, yet. I could get her to hate Irena and love me, but when Irena came back, she would kill me. Sounds like I won't be executing that plan.  
  
"Why would that be?" she asks me.  
  
"It's only for your safety," I tell her. Partially true, the safety of sleeping at night.  
  
"Oh, please, Sark, you could come up with a better lie than that," she replies.  
  
"I just don't find it relevant to inform you on what circumstances Irena picked this location," I tell her. Just get off my chest, Sydney.  
  
She finally shuts up and we quietly resume the car ride. I looked over a few useless documents, nothing that Sydney truly couldn't see. We gradually arrived at the place and Sydney looked weird at me.  
  
"This is it?" she asks as we are dropped off at the abandoned house.  
  
"You, of all people, should know that looks aren't everything?" I reply.  
  
She follows me and I have one of my men trail behind her, in case she decides to pull anything. We walk to the back door entrance and I carefully wipe off the doormat, pick it up, and place my hand onto the box. The door carefully opens and we enter into the elevator.  
  
"So what's this place, anyway?" she asks.  
  
"You'll see," I can only reply.  
  
The elevator slowly goes down and we reach the end. 28 Floors under the ground, welcome to the most advanced operations center for an international spy organization.  
  
When the doors open, I glance over at Sydney just to see her original reaction. I watch as her eyes widen and she is amazed by the splendor of the place.  
  
"Oh, my, gosh," is all she says.  
  
I lead her out of the elevator and we head over to my office. As I walk over, I get the occasional, hellos, sirs, welcome backs, the usual. Everyone tries to get on my good side, the suck ups. Most of them I don't know, but they know me. And they know I would kill them at a drop of a hat if they did anything to disturb me. That's how Irena and I ran the organization.  
  
"Well, Sydney, welcome, this is my office," I bring her into my lovely abode. It also serves as my apartment, since it has all the necessities of an apartment. I had my own butler and a full kitchen even. Irena also had a similar arrangement, but recently it had not been occupied. I am the only one that knows the key code and no one dares to try to get into it.  
  
I walk over to my desk and sit down, to see what the analysts had for me. Nothing exciting, except that the CIA was frantically looking for Sydney and Irena hadn't talked yet. We have our ways of knowing things, let me tell you that.  
  
"George here, he will show you to your current living arrangements for the time being, where you will find some necessities, I will be along later," I tell Sydney and let my men escort her to her apartment. Irena had done it up for her, when we originally had conjured up the great plan. I didn't know how soon we would be putting it to use, but it was certainly magnificent.  
  
I was tired, all of this was making me weary. I carefully am looking over my documents when a shadow appears over my head. I peer up to see who it was.  
  
"About time you showed up," I say.  
  
  
  
  
  
~~AHHH! I know, it's awesome! Tell me what you think! Reviews are awesome!~~ Masquerade 


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Notes: I enjoyed all your reviews about my last chapter! At least some people liked it! I was afraid you'd all hate it! So once again, I go back to Sydney's POV. I've got some great stuff planned for the next few chapters, so the more reviews I get, the faster I want to write!  
  
Disclaimer: J.J. Abrams and ABC own the wonderful characters of Alias!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
****Sydney POV****  
  
  
  
I was stunned. Sark actually took me to his operations center. I thought he was just kidding around with me, but he actually trusts me enough to bring me here. Our conversations on the plane after he told me he "loved me" were interesting. It was obvious to me he was hiding something, but I have a bigger feeling he's not telling me anytime soon. I guess I'll just have to figure out for myself.  
  
Sark's peon, he so named "George", showed me to my living accommodations, or so they were referred to as that. He led me through a hallway and came to a door at the end. He unlocked it and pointed in. I carefully walked into the room and started feeling the wall for a light of some sort, since it was extremely dark. I found one and at the same time, nice George slammed the door shut. I twisted around, tried to get out, but I was locked in. Great. I should have ran away when I had a chance at the house.  
  
Well, I finally turned on the light, and to my amazement, the room was not just a room, but it was an apartment. A nicely decorated apartment, at that. It was kind of the same as Sark's, but an inch smaller. I walked into the open room and observed a couch and a small kitchen. I went over to the fridge and sure enough, it was stocked with items! So, I decided to explore a little more before making something. I went into the bedroom and it too was very nice. I looked in the closet and there were clothes! Good thing, I needed to get changed out of these ones.  
  
The bathroom was small, a toilet, sink, and shower all jammed in. It was nice. The only part that scared me was does this mean I'm going to be here awhile? I will definitely have to talk to Sark when he comes next time. I really wasn't too sure about him yet.  
  
I headed back into the main room and went directly to the kitchen. I got out the lettuce and other veggies and made myself a nice salad, since I noticed there was salad dressing that I liked. I got it all ready and headed to the table and sat down and enjoyed it. It was the best thing I had to eat since Sark had so kindly captured me.  
  
Sark. what was I going to do about him? Was he seriously in love with me? Do I seriously kind of sort of like him back? Having to even thinking about that makes me shutter a little. I decided to go take a shower and change out of my icky clothes.  
  
  
  
  
  
My shower felt great and the water was so scalding I felt fully cleansed. I had blown dry my hair and grabbed a nice shirt and pants outfit out of the closet. I headed back out into the apartment and saw a bookcase filled with books. I scanned the titles, some were in Russian, but I found a copy of "The Great Gatsby". Interesting it was there considering all the other books that were. So, I took it down from the shelf and headed over to the couch. It was one of my favorites and I didn't have anything else better to do.  
  
I settled in on the couch and grabbed a blanket I had found. I nestled in, realizing how much I did like "The Great Gatsby" and sure enough, I soon fell asleep.  
  
  
  
When I woke up, I felt someone gently rubbing my hair. It took me a second to comprehend my surroundings, but when I started to move, the hand stopped and pulled away. I turned around and looked up to see Sark staring back at me.  
  
"Good nap?" he asks me.  
  
"Uh, sure," I reply. I get up from my lying position on the couch to just be sitting next to Sark. This time, however, we had gained some distance apart.  
  
"Do you enjoy the accommodations?" he then asks me.  
  
"Yes, they are very nice," I quietly reply.  
  
"That's good, I was thinking you might enjoy having dinner with me tonight," he then says. Is that a date? Hm. not sure.  
  
"I guess so, as long as it's good food," I reply, didn't want to act too nervous.  
  
"Then it's settled. One of my men will come escort you to my private dining facility in an hour or so," he informs me, then excuses himself out.  
  
So Sark and I are having dinner tonight. What should I wear? I decided to head into the bedroom and see what there was to wear. I thought I had seen a dress or two when I was looking earlier, but I wasn't too sure. So I dig around the closet and sure enough find a nice dress that resembled a sundress. It was actually rather cute and lucky fit me. I did my hair a little better and waited out for the "goon" to escort me to his dining whatever.  
  
Soon enough, a heard a knock and then a smaller looking man enter the room.  
  
"Hello, Ms. Bristow, Mr. Sark has asked for your attendance in the dining room," he says very formally.  
  
"Alright, I'm ready to go," I reply back.  
  
He lets me go out first and there is another guard waiting as well. I followed the two down the hallway again and down another hallway into the big area. We headed across and I noticed the people looked a lot busier. Interesting, something big must be going on. They took me to a door close to Sark's office and let me in.  
  
I noticed a nice large looking dining table that had been set out in front of me. It was beautiful looking, actually. It was amazing how this place was so interesting and large and it was all 28 stories below. My guess is that my mother stole it from the Soviet's when the USSR fell. I wouldn't be surprised if they had a nuclear weapon or two lying around here either. I stood by the door for a second until Sark entered from a side entrance.  
  
"Good evening, Sydney," he says very gentlemanly. He walks over and gently places a kiss on my cheek. Maybe he was seriously in love with me.  
  
"Good evening," I reply.  
  
"How about we take our seats," he then says and pulls out a chair at the other end for me. I walk over and gently sit into it while he pushes the chair in. I was surprised he was doing this, not his personal butler.  
  
"The meal tonight is quite splendid. We have an elegant salad being prepared followed by a special duck soup and a well-seasoned breast of chicken," he so kindly informs me. He obviously put a lot of time into the meal and it showed through his presentation of it.  
  
"It sounds great," I tell him.  
  
"By the way, we're going to have one more join us tonight, as you can see, I have three place settings," he informs me. I looked around and notice there was room for one more. How could I have been so stupid? My spy skills are failing me today.  
  
"Oh, really? Who?" I ask him.  
  
"Nice to see you again, Sydney," I hear a woman's voice behind me.  
  
I slowly turn around and see her. Why, how could she be here? I was utterly confused, that's for sure.  
  
"What? I'm so confused now," I only can say.  
  
"I thought you might be, but I thought over a little dinner we could clear that up," she says.  
  
"Of course, Irena, it's always a pleasure to have you back here," Sark says to suck up to the boss.  
  
"I see you and Mr. Sark have made some connections, would I not be right to assume that," my unloving mother spits out.  
  
"How did you escape?" I can only say. The whole Sark thing can get put on hold for right now.  
  
"Rather easily, actually. I could have at anytime I wanted, but the sign was when Sark had you captured," she explains.  
  
"There was no journal, was there Sark?" I ask him. Now, the pieces are coming together.  
  
"Well, I wouldn't exactly say one exists on this earth," he only replies.  
  
"So, you set me up? You.. Uh! I hate you!" I say and stand up and head towards the door.  
  
"Let me out, let me back to my "apartment"," I tell him.  
  
"Fine," he says and sure enough I am taken back to my little apartment. I ran into my bedroom and started to cry.  
  
Why was I stuck here? I just want to go home and see everyone. especially Vaughn.  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~Like it? Tell me how much! Reviews rock my world!~~~ Masquerade 


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Notes: Thanks again for all the reviews, and please keep them coming. I use them to improve my stories greatly! And for the few comments on the 28 stories, yeah, I know it's kind of extreme, but this my own mindset and I bet Irena could do it if she wanted! You know it! Anyway, enjoy this chapter, it's A LOT of fluff between Syd and Sark.  
  
Disclaimer- I don't own the lovely characters of Alias, ABC and J.J. Abrams do!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
***Sydney POV***  
  
  
  
I nestled into my new bed and just stared into the ceiling. Then, I curled up into a little ball. The smaller I could get myself, the smaller my problems would be, hopefully. I felt someone else in the room, soon enough. I didn't want to recognize them so I just stayed in my ball under the blanket.  
  
He came over and sat down next to me on the bed. I could smell and taste it was him and it was wonderful. I didn't know what to do, should I turn over and say something? No, I want him to talk first.  
  
"I know you're mad, and you have every reason to be, but there's something I want you to know," he starts. I turn over to see him.  
  
"It wasn't my idea, it was your mothers. She wanted to surprise you, I felt it wasn't the best idea."  
  
Was he being serious? I wasn't too sure yet. He decided to sit down more on the bed and wrap his fingers within mine. It wasn't bad or anything.  
  
"Sydney, it's just, everything about you, I love it all, and I want to be with you all the time," he says. I guess he did like me, he has said it several times. He leaned in to kiss me and I leaned up to reach his face. We stayed there for a good few minutes and it felt pretty good.  
  
"Wow, that was a good one," I say.  
  
"I'd have to agree," he replies.  
  
He then lies down with me and we wrap our arms around each other and just sit there entangled in each other's embrace. For some reason, it felt so great.  
  
"Sydney," he whispers into my ear.  
  
"Yes," I reply and stare right into his beautiful eyes.  
  
"J'aime tu," he says to me in French, which means I love you. It was so adorable. I guess I could like Sark. What about my old life though? I couldn't exactly just stay here and work for Irena of all people. I had to have my morals straight. However, Sark was being awful romantic.  
  
So, to reply to his wonderful French, I lean in and kiss him like no one before. It was magnificent.  
  
"Hey, um, Sark?" I say.  
  
"Yes, my love?" he replies to me.  
  
"Are there cameras in here?" I can only say. The idea had just popped into my head. I didn't want my mother to be viewing this.  
  
"Not in the bedrooms, we're decent enough to give you that privacy," he replies.  
  
"Or us that privacy," I tell him.  
  
"Ah, indeed," he replies.  
  
We lie there for a while before anyone says anything. I just like laying there wrapped up into his arms. At that point in time, I felt so safe.  
  
"My love," he says.  
  
"Yes?" I reply.  
  
"Do you want to come move into my apartment? Mine is much more spacious and I have a butler there who can get you anything you need," he informs me. Wow, this was a big step for us, I suppose. Should I trust him? If I did this I would have more contact with my mother, which might be a good or bad thing.  
  
"I suppose, if you think it's the best idea," I reply to him.  
  
"Ah, then it's settled. I'll go run along and get thing a little more ready, and you can pack whatever clothes you like from here," he so kindly informs me.  
  
"Okay then," I say. He gets up when I do, stands next to me, and kisses me, as if it were our last time together, ever.  
  
"One of my men will escort you to the location," he tells me.  
  
"Okay," I smile and then he leaves.  
  
I look through the drawers and pick out some things I might want to wear. I was sad because there weren't too many dresses, but if I asked Sark, I bet he would be able to get me some. My relationship with Sark had taken so many twists and turns, I honestly don't know what is the right one now. Honestly, I think we are in love.  
  
  
  
  
  
***Sark POV***  
  
I had done what I never thought I would do. I had actually fallen in love with Sydney Bristow. I couldn't stop it either. Everything about her made me love her, how she was so weak sometimes helped me to gain her love too. I wanted to make her love me with all her heart so that we could be perfect and then I could gain all her trust and Irena would have none. It would be great.  
  
I had made room for her belongings and had my butler, Marc, start us a splendid little dessert. I knew Sydney hadn't had dinner, so I thought she might enjoy dessert. I was hoping that Irena wouldn't decide to pop in because I know how riled that gets Sydney. I wanted her to trust me enough to leave her whole other life behind her.  
  
I heard a small knock on the door and I came to it. I opened it to find Sydney, standing with one of the guards with a small bag.  
  
"That's all you could find to bring?" I ask her.  
  
She comes in, "There wasn't much there I liked, honestly."  
  
"Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we?" I smile at her. She smiled back.  
  
"I'll show you the place some more," I tell her. I then let her follow me, hand in hand, around my spacious apartment. I show her everything about it, since it was high tech. I think she liked it, or rather, I hope she liked it.  
  
We finished the tour and I brought us back into the main room. "So what did you think?"  
  
"It's very nice," she replies and gives me a nice kiss on the cheek.  
  
"I thought you might think so," I say. "I took the liberty of having some desserts prepared, since I know you must be hungry."  
  
"Oh, that sounds wonderful," she replies. Good job, Sark, way to win the girl with food.  
  
We head into my dining room and I had arranged several cakes and other candies. We both sat down and I watched as Sydney couldn't decide which to eat.  
  
"So many choices," she says.  
  
"Indeed, there are," I reply with a smile.  
  
We decide on our choices and we fall into silence as we eat. She would occasionally look over and give me her best smile and then we would resume to eating. We had enjoyed our desserts and were done.  
  
"So I was thinking," she starts.  
  
"Yes?" I say.  
  
"Do you mind if I call you Andrew, when it's just me and you?" she asks me. This was a big step, she was trusting me.  
  
"Of course, but just between me and you, right?" I reply.  
  
"Oh yes, Andrew," she said. It felt so sweet. She had said my first name. It was almost like being given candy as a child.  
  
"Since I'm done with my work for the evening, I was thinking we could watch a movie," I tell her.  
  
"You have a TV?" she asks me.  
  
"Of course, did I not show it to you in the tour?" I reply.  
  
"I guess not. What movie?" she then asks.  
  
"Well, I don't have the most extensive movie collection, but a fairly good selection, we'll find something," I tell her. We get up from the table and I wrap my arm around her and we walk to the main room. I let her get situated on the couch and I head over and pull open the TV.  
  
"Do you like Pretty Women?" I ask. I love that movie, it's my favorite, I know, it's my sore spot.  
  
"You have Pretty Women?" she replies.  
  
"It sure looks that way," I reply.  
  
"Of course!" she says.  
  
I come over to join her on the couch and resume a positioning that resembled that of our cabin fireside snuggling. We both wrapped each other's arms around the other and laid together. We were watching the movie for a while when she looked over at me funny.  
  
"What is it, dear?" I ask her.  
  
"Oh, nothing. It's just hard for anyone to imagine you being this nice when your reputation has you being a cold, heartless killer," she so kindly informs me.  
  
"Wow, that's harsh," I only reply.  
  
"Sorry, I didn't mean it to be, but you understand," she then says.  
  
"Fully, it's okay," I say back.  
  
I kiss her once, and then we resume our positions watching the movie. Soon enough, both of us had fallen asleep on the couch and it was the most wonderful feeling ever. I was in love with the most wonderful girl on the entire Earth.  
  
  
  
~~You like all that fluff?!?! I did! Tell me how much, leave a review!~~~Masquerade 


	13. Chapter 13

Authors Notes: Did we all enjoy our handsome Sark on Sunday night? I sure did! Thanks again for all the reviews and I hope you like this chapter- kind of not as good as the others, but the next should be great!  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be, all own to ABC and J.J. Abrams.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
***Sydney POV***  
  
  
  
I woke up and noticed the warmth emanating from the body lying next to mine. It appeared to me he hadn't woken up yet, so I decided to stay as I was until he woke. It gave me some time to think. This whole thing between Sark and I, how real was it? I wasn't too sure, which scared me the most. Part of me wanted it to be real. I needed something real in my life right now and if this is where it came from, I wouldn't honestly mind.  
  
I heard a door open, it must be Marc, Sark's very nice butler. I didn't move from my position, just listened and observed. However, when the figure passed by, they came to sit down on the couch. I looked over and it certainly wasn't Marc, but her. My lovely, horrible, mother.  
  
"I see you and Mr. Sark have become very good friends," she says.  
  
All I can do is give her an evil stare back. I still couldn't believe she escaped from the CIA. When I was still there, we had gained some connections, but now, that just made me mad.  
  
"I suppose," I can only reply.  
  
I can feel Sark waking under me. I turn around to face him, mostly to ignore my mother.  
  
"Hey," I say.  
  
"Hello," he replies.  
  
I mouth to him, "She's here, over there."  
  
He sits up and I join him while we remain hand in hand.  
  
"Well, good morning, Irena," he says.  
  
"Looks like it's a good morning for you two," she remarks.  
  
I look over at Sark and he gives me a sympathizing gaze. He squeezes my hand, mostly probably for support.  
  
"Is there something you needed to talk to us about?" he smartly asks her.  
  
"Oh, splendid, there is. I am going to have a welcoming back gala in Russia at the Palace and I am inviting you both," she says in an exciting voice.  
  
I look over at Sark, he says, "We'll both be there. At the Palace, the one you had that lovely gathering last fall?"  
  
"Yes, it is, now, I'm going to run along, I don't want to keep my two lovebirds in company," she says. I give her the dirtiest glare I can make and go back to placing my arm around Sark.  
  
"That was rough," I say. "It took all the energy to not jump on her."  
  
"Sydney, my love, patience, over time, you two will make amends. Just try to, okay?" he tells me.  
  
"I know, I know. You know exactly what to tell me sometimes, don't you?" I tell him and give him a hug.  
  
"I have to take care of some business, so if you would like to get dressed, Marc can get you some breakfast and then I'll send along Angela, the head of the disguise department and she'll be able to show you a dress or two for the gala, okay, my love?" he tells me.  
  
"Sounds great," I reply. We kiss and he heads out to "work" I suppose. I wonder what he does when he's here? Probably analysis things and such. He is rather smart, that's for sure. I wonder if he's going to tell Irena about my hate towards her and she might kill me or something. That could be trouble, but I know Sark would protect me.  
  
  
  
I had my delicious breakfast and was ready to go, as soon as the Angela person or whoever showed up. I heard a knock on the door and went over and a small, woman appeared.  
  
"You, you're Ms. Bristow?" she nervously asks.  
  
"That's right, but please, call me Sydney," I say.  
  
"Okay, would you mind following me then, Sydney," she replies. I noticed she had a small Russian accent, so she must have been recruited from there.  
  
"It's an honor to finally meet you, you know," she says while we're walking.  
  
"Can I ask why?" I ask her, considering I found it weird for this small woman to know who I was.  
  
"Well, I'm also Irena's personal clothing assistant, and she was rather excited when she found out about you looking into her, she wanted to be able to finally see you again," she informs me.  
  
"Oh really?" I reply. That was interesting. My mother, I believe, was obsessed with me, but I think if I were to ask her about it, she wouldn't say so. That makes me all shutter inside. Ahh!  
  
We reach the door and Angela opens it and lets me in. It has walls and closets of clothing and wigs and shoes and everything. It actually was bigger than the one at SD-6, which honestly didn't surprise me.  
  
"Now, I understand you're looking for a dress for the Gala at the Palace?" she asks me.  
  
"That's correct," I reply.  
  
"Well, I'll take you over to our formal dresses section. We just got a few new ones, under Irena's insistence, so you might like them," she says. My question, did she get them knowing I might come here? Something I might have to ask Sark.  
  
"Here they are," she points them out to me. I saw many of different kinds and sizes and it was all to much to handle.  
  
"How about something that Mr. Sark would like?" I ask her.  
  
"Well, actually, you're in luck, because I know for a fact he just adores this dress," she says as she pulls out a yellow dress. It was more of a light yellow and it was another halter-top dress, but this time it stopped at my knees and flared out there. It was actually very beautiful.  
  
"I'll take it," I reply.  
  
"Okay, let's pick out a wig and some shoes," she says.  
  
"A wig?" I ask. Why do I need a wig?  
  
"Irena has insisted you wear one, for safety procedures. We have an excellent selection over here," she says and points me to a rack of red wigs. I found one that was long and wavy and was a strawberry blonde color. It was perfect.  
  
"And here's some shoes," she said and handed me a pair of adorable yellow sandals that were rather dressy.  
  
"Sounds great, now, do I hold on to all of this, or will you?" I ask her. I need to know the low down of the situation.  
  
"Oh, of course I do, and when we land in Russia we'll go to the Russian house to get ready," she informs me. The Russian house? I guess I'll just have to go with the flow here.  
  
"Okay, then I guess we're done, right?" I ask.  
  
"Yes, yes, I have to get your items ready, but the man at the door with escort you back to Mr. Sark's living area," she says. They all are so formal when discussing Sark, I found it rather funny actually.  
  
I followed the "man at the door" back to Sark's place. This whole place fascinated me. It was underground, yet it must have to span a mile with all the stuff they have here. My mother and Sark definitely had it together. I wondered how they build it, but the true question on my mind is how my mother escaped the CIA. Maybe that would be the topic of conversation at one of our lovely dinners.  
  
  
  
I had taken a shower and had settled down again to see what I could watch. I asked Marc how to operate the TV and ended up watching a few old James Bond movies Sark had lying around. I was cuddled up on the couch when I heard Sark come back. I got up and went over to the door and it wasn't Sark, but my lovely mother. Oh, great.  
  
"Why, hello Sydney," she said in her lovely Russian tone.  
  
"What a pleasure, isn't it?" I reply to her with a negative tone and look.  
  
"I thought we could have a little chat," she says.  
  
"Oh really?" I reply.  
  
"Indeed," she says and leads me back into Sark's main room and heads over to the couch. I sit down on the opposite end after she declares her spot.  
  
"Now what was this you wanted to talk about?" I ask.  
  
"You and my wonderful Chief of Operations, Mr. Sark," she replies.  
  
"Yes?" I only say.  
  
"So, I understand you've grown into quite this lovely relationship," she begins.  
  
"And yes?"  
  
"What were your personal plans for the future? Stay here? Plan an escape that you would be unsuccessful in?" she continues.  
  
"You know what? I trust Sark more than you and I'd rather not have this conversation with you of all people. I know what you want, you want me to stay and be your little princess in your organization and help you do more bad in the world, but I stop at the line," I say, and afterwards feel quite out of breath. That took a lot of energy and air.  
  
"What's going on here?" I hear the lovely British accented man say from behind me. I get up and walk over to him.  
  
"You know perfectly well what's going on here," I tell him.  
  
"Irena, do you mind?" he tells her.  
  
She gives Sark a look of death and exits the room.  
  
"I just, every time she tries to talk to me, it's like she's trying to push you out," I say, in between a few sniffles.  
  
"It's okay, my love," he says.  
  
We go sit on the couch and I lie down. Sark starts stroking my hair and comforts me. I have a feeling this gala is going to be a lot harder than I thought.  
  
  
  
~Like it! Tell me how much! I'm almost to 100 Reviews!!~ Masquerade 


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Notes: Sorry everyone for such a delay in posting this next chapter!!! I hope you'll enjoy it enough to forgive me!!! Well, once again, thank you so much for all the encouraging reviews, (especially for the correction on Irina's name!) Review again and hopefully I can write faster!  
  
Disclaimer: Alias and the wonderful characters from it belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
***Sydney POV***  
  
I woke up the next morning and realized I was lying in a comfortable bed. I looked around and noticed it was Sark's bedroom. When I fell asleep last night, I was curled up on the couch, so he must have moved me. I realized today was the day- we were scheduled to fly to Russia by two. I got out of the bed and walked into the kitchen and found Marc there.  
  
"Good morning, Ms. Bristow," he says very gentlemanly.  
  
"Hello, good morning," I reply.  
  
"Mr. Sark had to take care of some early business, but informed me to have you shower and pack for the trip, and he would return by noon," he tells me.  
  
"Thanks, Marc," I say and head back into the bathroom. I looked at the clock- it was 10:30. I decided to take a quick shower and then get my limited belongings together. I had to cleanse myself before I had to face Irina at the gala, as she had so appropriately named it.  
  
  
  
As I was standing in the shower, I could just have some time to think to myself. When I was back in L.A, I didn't mind my mother that much. However, since I've been here, I haven't gotten along the best with her. I couldn't understand why, though. Was it because I was mad at her for escaping the CIA? Or did I have to have that glass wall up between us to stay civilized. I wasn't too sure. The shower felt great though.  
  
  
  
I came out of the bathroom and gathered the makeup and small necessities I need for the trip and put them into a small bag I had. I took the bag and walked back into the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the counter and relaxed on the couch until I heard the door open. I stood up and walked over and Sark stood there.  
  
"Good morning, my love," he says.  
  
"Hey," I say.  
  
He comes over and kisses me and grabs my hand to accompany me to the main room. We both sat down on the couch and he looked over at me.  
  
"You ready for this?" he asks me.  
  
"Ready as I'll ever be," I can only reply.  
  
"Alright, let's go," he informs me and we walk out of his apartment to the elevator.  
  
We got into the elevator and slowly started the voyage up to the surface.  
  
"So, what are you wearing tonight?" he asks me.  
  
"It's a surprise," I only say.  
  
"Well, that's no fun," he replies.  
  
"What about you? What is Mr. Sark going to wear?" I say playfully.  
  
"Ah, indeed, another surprise," he responds.  
  
"Who's going to be on the plane?" I ask him. I hope that she already left and I don't have to deal with her on the plane.  
  
"Unfortunately, we're not alone, we're taking our largest jet, mostly because a lot of people are coming," he informs me.  
  
"Is she on the plane with us?" I ask.  
  
"Ah, no, Irina left earlier this morning to get ready, plus we never fly together, for safety reasons," he tells me.  
  
"So there's one of you left incase the other's plane crashes?" I ask.  
  
"Yes, that's one example," he replies.  
  
"Okay, I understand," I only say and we reach the top.  
  
  
  
We head into the car and we head back the same way we had came three days earlier. How long had I been missing now? Almost two weeks, I think. I wasn't too sure. I wasn't too sure if I wanted to be rescued. I had the most relaxing and wonderful two weeks of my life and I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back, yet, anyway.  
  
"What are you thinking about, my love?" he asks me.  
  
"How desolate this whole area is," I lie.  
  
"You know me better than that, dear, you can't lie to me," he replies.  
  
"What gave you the assumption that I was lying?" I only ask.  
  
"Well, you're stares out the window tell me all, you're obviously contemplating something," he says. He's good, he can read me like no one else, except maybe Vaughn.  
  
"It's nothing, I don't want to worry you or anything," I say.  
  
He grabs my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze for support, I think. I lean over to him and lie on his shoulder.  
  
"I don't know what to do anymore, Andrew," I say.  
  
"I see," he replies.  
  
"You know, this past week or so has been the most relaxing time I've experienced, I think," I say. "I don't know if I'm ready to lose it, or you."  
  
"Don't worry, I won't let that happen," he replies.  
  
"Okay, I know, but you know how I worry," I can only say.  
  
The rest of the car ride is silent while I just lean against Sark, and he holds my hand to comfort me. I didn't know about this party to start with and I never knew what the unexpected could hold.  
  
  
  
We got onto the plane and headed to the back. I surveyed the people, most in which I didn't know. There was a few I had seen from the operations center, but otherwise, they were all unfamiliar faces. Sark led me to a back door and led us into a small office. It had a desk and a couch and a few other office type things. I settled down on the couch after Sark proceeded to go sit behind the desk.  
  
"Nice plane," I tell him.  
  
"Oh, isn't it? I enjoy it much more than that little plane we had to go to England with," he replies.  
  
I sat on the couch and just observed Sark sitting at his desk, typing away at his laptop. He looked so involved in his work. I got up from the couch and went over and sat down in the chair next to Sark's.  
  
"What are you working on?" I ask him.  
  
He takes my hand and twists his laptop over to show me what he was working on.  
  
"It's a plan we've been developing to take down the Alliance," he tells me. I scan the screen and see a list of names and dates.  
  
"Really?" I reply.  
  
"Yes, our attempt last year was close, but not quite successful, Cole wasn't good enough to start," he says.  
  
"Really?" I can only say.  
  
"I know, we've acquired some intel that we can use to infiltrate several of the SD locations, I'm going to send some of our teams in next week," he informs me.  
  
"Wow, I mean, the CIA has been trying hard to do that, and all," I start.  
  
"I know, isn't it great? And we'll inquire all the Rambaldi artifacts they have acquired," he then says.  
  
"I can't believe it," I say.  
  
"Anyway, enough business, do you want something to drink?" he asks me while getting up to go to the bar.  
  
"Just a ginger ale if you have it," I then say.  
  
"Of course."  
  
I head back to the couch and Sark joins me and we enjoy our drinks. The plane ride was expecting to be only a mere two hours, so we just sat and discussed the party.  
  
  
  
We landed soon enough and Sark and I gracefully were the first ones to leave. It was obvious that the others on the plane gave Sark his respect and definitely didn't try to mess with him. We headed into the car and drove off to the location of the gala.  
  
"Now tonight, your best bet is to stay at my side, so that way you don't have to talk to many of the people," he informs me.  
  
"That was my plan," I smile and reply to him.  
  
"Aren't you excited?" he asks me.  
  
"A little I suppose, mostly because of the outfit I'm wearing tonight. You'll love it," I inform him.  
  
"Oh really, now?" he replies.  
  
"Yes, you will," I giggle back.  
  
  
  
We arrived shortly and I glared out the window and saw a beautiful, old, Russian building. It was gorgeous.  
  
"Who owns this?" I ask him.  
  
"Irina, it used to be part of the KGB, but when they dissolved she quickly took possession of it," he informs me. He seemed to be the expert on my mother, but I didn't let it bother me too much.  
  
"It certainly is beautiful," I reply.  
  
"Just like you," he says back. He kisses me and we both step out of the car, hand in hand.  
  
We walked up to the steps and into the building, where a man escorted us to our rooms. Sark and I were sharing a wonderful room, probably because my mother was trying to impress me. I saw my dress bag lying there along with a box with my other belongings. Sark's bag also was there, and I was tempted to go over and see what he was wearing.  
  
"Shall we get dressed now?" I ask him.  
  
"I suppose," he replies. "The party starts in an hour, and we must be down there to greet people."  
  
"Okay," I say and scurry off to the one bathroom and get my dress and wig on. I styled my wig beautifully. Sark definitely would be amazed at my appearance. I took a little longer to apply some makeup and some other jewelry and made sure everything was perfect.  
  
"Are you ever going to join me, Sydney?" he asks through the door.  
  
I swing open the door and see his jaw drop to the floor.  
  
"You look.. Beautiful," he only can muster out.  
  
"Why thank you, you don't look so bad yourself," I reply. He tries to straighten up to avoid looking too obvious to his staring.  
  
"You ready to do this, my love?" he asks.  
  
"As long as I've got you by my side," I reply and we embrace in a long kiss. I had a feeling this was going to be a long night, but Sark would protect me.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~As always, I enjoy reading every one of your reviews! So leave me one!~~~ Masquerade 


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Notes: Well, thanks again so much for all the awesome reviews. This chapter is definitely more action and more plot. I hope you enjoy it enough to review! My next chapter should be up on Saturday! Thanks again for reading, and please review!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the wonderful characters of Alias. ABC, J.J. Abrams and all those other cool people do!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
***Sydney POV***  
  
  
  
I walked down the large, Victorian stairs with Sark at my arm into the ballroom. I scanned the room, observing that not too many of the guests had arrived yet. Sark directed me over to a corner of the room where a few of the only people there yet had gathered. I honestly was afraid, mostly because I had no idea what was going on anymore. This whole little "gala" scared me.  
  
"Ah, Sydney, I see you look most ravishing this evening," my mother tells me. Just great.  
  
"Thank you," I reply very quietly, hoping she might not have heard me.  
  
"Mr. Sark, would you mind introducing Sydney to everyone?" she asks him.  
  
"My pleasure, Irina," he says. "Sydney, this is."  
  
At that point, I just smiled and nodded to the five or so names Sark rambled off. I had to make sure I wasn't going to fall asleep, because I was that bored.  
  
"Would you like something to drink, my love?" Sark asks me.  
  
"Oh, please," I reply. We gracefully head over to the bar when I see them. Vaughn's eyes. I look back at where I had seen them and noticed a waiter serving appetizers to the guests. What did he think he was doing? Trying to get me out of here? If Irina saw him, she'd shoot him on the spot. I wanted to get rid of Sark so I could try to go see if it was truly him.  
  
We grabbed our drinks and Sark started us back for the lovely little group I wanted to puke on. So, I decided to do something.  
  
"Sark," I say.  
  
"Yes, dear?" he replies.  
  
"I'm going to go to the ladies room real fast, is that alright?" I ask.  
  
"Oh, that's fine, do you want someone to go with you?" he replies.  
  
"I think I can manage," I say.  
  
I head over to the direction of the waiter and he looked up at me. It definitely had to be him. I walked straight up to his tray and him.  
  
"May I have one?" I ask.  
  
"Of course," he replies and I confirm it. It was Vaughn. He put whatever he was serving on a napkin for me and I headed my way out to the bathroom.  
  
I rushed into the bathroom as fast as I could and went into a stall. I opened the napkin and inside there was a little note enclosed.  
  
There's a team here waiting to move in. When Sark gets called away on a phone call, that's the sign.  
  
-V  
  
  
  
I ripped the paper up and threw it in the toilet and flushed it. Great. As much as I was glad they had found me and they were rescuing me, what was I to do about Sark? We did have some attraction going on, but its not like I could persuade him to just come over to the CIA with me. If they were going to bust into here though, they probably would get him though.  
  
I came back out of the bathroom and went over to Sark and the lovely group over there. My guess, the heads of the organization, considering my mother and Sark seemed very close with the five other men. I just smiled and held on to Sark's arm like a good girl and played along. I hadn't seen Vaughn since I returned so maybe it was going to happen soon, or Irina had noticed it was him and had him taken to the back. Hopefully it was the former.  
  
  
  
An hour soon passed and more and more people had arrived. Sark and Irina welcomed each one and made a special point to introduce me. She would say,  
  
"And I want you to meet my lovely daughter, Sydney, who's currently involved with our lovely Mr. Sark." Every time I would smile at the person and they would go on their merry way. I still had my hand on Sark's, mostly because he kept me safe.  
  
Soon enough, a butler came over to Sark to tell him there was a phone call for him. I knew this was it. I headed over to the bar again to stay away from my mother and to honestly get a drink. I felt like I was shaking inside.  
  
I looked up at the man serving my drink and it was Vaughn. He gave me a smile and a brief nod and I returned the notion. He got me a water, although I asked for a vodka, he knew better.  
  
Then, all of a sudden, I heard it, the doors crashing open and guns shooting and people screaming. People were scattering everywhere and I tried to find my mother but she was nowhere in sight. Maybe the CIA already nabbed her. I felt a touch on my back and turned around and Vaughn was gone, and Sark had replaced him. Where did Vaughn go?  
  
"Come on love, we have to go," he says.  
  
I didn't know why, but I started to follow him out the back door that no one else had ran for. I didn't appear to me that anyone was following us either, but when we got outside, in the back alley, I felt a gun being pressed to my head.  
  
"Stop right there, you two," the man says.  
  
We both glance over at each other and release our hands from their grip. We both stood still until the man had put handcuffs on both of us. Who was it? It wasn't Vaughn, their voice was too scratchy.  
  
He directed us to the van that a few other prisoners had been forced into. The unknown man forced us into it and we did so. We occasionally glanced over at each other, but my guess is that Sark wasn't too worried- since Irina had escaped before, he must know how to as well.  
  
When the van was full, they started to go. I didn't recognize anyone else in our van, but a few people looked terrified to be sitting near Sark. I held on to his hand the best I could in handcuffs.  
  
Honestly, I wasn't too sure what to be thinking right now. Did the CIA see me as an enemy now? Or were they just pretending. The ride took forever and I had way too much time to contemplate that.  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~Review, please!?!?! It would be great!~~~ Thanks for reading. Masquerade! 


	16. Chapter 16

Author's Notes: Whew! Sorry about the long time to update- but you know how the holidays get! Thanks again for all the reviews and your reviews helped me to decide which way to aim this story, so I hope you like it. Once again, please review and I will take any suggestions or ideas! They help get my brain in motion! Enjoy- and enjoy tonight's new episode!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the great characters of Alias, the great writing staff headed by J.J. Abrams do!  
  
  
  
  
  
**Sydney POV**  
  
  
  
  
  
We felt the van jerk to a halt finally and heard the engine turn off. I pull my head up from it being rested on Sark's shoulder. She glanced up at him. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but he knew it was no use. She heard the door open and a few men yell in Russian for us to get out. They were at the front and waited as the others slowly got out of the van. Who knew where they were going?  
  
They had to walk a small distance to a building that was after a small-chained fence. I took this opportunity to pursue the surrounding area. Since Sark and I were heading up the rear, we had one guard behind us and I thought of trying to break away. Too risky, then the CIA would really get suspicious of my motives.  
  
Luckily for us, a black van came speeding up towards us and started shooting at the guards. When it passed, the door opened and Sark and I jumped in the best we could. The people inside helped us, but we had successfully got in. What was I doing? What was the CIA going to think of me now? Honestly, I liked this life a little bit better.  
  
  
  
The guards in the van pried off our handcuffs and we were free again. Sark and I took a seat in the rear and the only other sat towards the front. We had some time to ourselves, I suppose.  
  
"Where are we going?" I ask him as I cuddle up next to him.  
  
"Our plane," he says.  
  
"Good idea," I reply.  
  
"Sydney, my love, are you okay with this?" he asks me.  
  
"Okay with what?" I ask back at him.  
  
"Well, you just had your opportunity to go back with the CIA, and you don't seem upset," he says.  
  
"I noticed the same thing. What has become of me?" I reply. Honestly, I wanted to know that as well.  
  
"Something we'll both have to explore a little more. Anyway, we're flying out of a different airport for security reasons so it's going to be an hour," he informs me.  
  
"Okay," I say. "Do you mind if I get rid of this wig?"  
  
"Not at all," he says and helps me take it off. I decide to lean on his shoulder and he gently strokes my hair. I take my hand and place it interlocking with his free one. Why did this feel so right? Was I now an enemy of the United States because I am falling in love with one of them?  
  
  
  
We arrived at the plane and it surely was in a desolate spot. I don't think anyone could find this if they really wanted to. There were a few other cars here, so obviously the CIA didn't get everyone. I wonder if they got my mother? They would probably love that. The CIA, that is. Anyway, so we headed back up to the plane, Sark and I hand in hand.  
  
We both walked to the back of the plane and I noticed a few people I had seen at the party or knew before from the last plane ride. They must have gotten out some how. Sark and I headed into his office and someone was already in there.  
  
"I'm glad you both got out," she said.  
  
"Oh, good, Irina, you got out as well," Sark replies.  
  
"Of course, I wasn't about to be captured or anything," she says with that smirk on her face.  
  
"Are you riding back to headquarters with us?" Sark asks her.  
  
"Yes, I suppose, only because my plane couldn't get here fast enough," she replies.  
  
I was just standing behind Sark letting them have their own little interaction. I had no intention of speaking, just to keep myself sane.  
  
"Well, and how are you Sydney?" she asks me.  
  
"I'm fine," I quickly reply.  
  
"Well, I hope you enjoyed the party, although your friends cut it short," Irina informs me.  
  
"I'll just have to yell at them for that, won't I?" I harshly reply back.  
  
"Ooo, getting a little testy, aren't we?" Irina replies to me.  
  
"Not really," I say.  
  
"Anyway," Sark butts in and gives me a look that honestly, I couldn't interpret if my life depended on it.  
  
"Well, the plane will be taking off shortly, so you two might as well have a seat," Irina says.  
  
Was she going to sit in the office the whole time? My guess was yes, which was just so pleasant for me. Sark and I sat down on the couch and she continued to be at the desk.  
  
"Want to get some shut eye, my love?" he asks me.  
  
"Most definitely," I reply.  
  
Sleep is good, especially when you want to avoid a person. So I laid down in Sark's lap and I gently fell asleep. This whole day was tiring. Sitting in Sark's lap, well, honestly, it felt perfect right now. Was this how my life was supposed to turn out?  
  
  
  
I had felt some turbulence and woke up. Normally, I can sleep through it, but not today I guess. I sat up and noticed Sark had woken up as well. I looked over at the desk and my mother was not at the desk. Good, we could have some alone time.  
  
"Where'd she go?" I ask him.  
  
"Probably to the front office," he replies.  
  
"Oh, good," I say.  
  
"The last day certainly has been quite stressful," he tells me.  
  
"Tell me about it," I reply.  
  
"I was thinking the two of us could get away for a few days and get to know each other better," he says. A vacation?  
  
"Oh, really? That does sound splendid," I reply.  
  
"I was thinking our vacation house in Nice," he says.  
  
"Ah, Nice, that sounds excellent," I say.  
  
"It's not exactly the warmest right now, but it is very relaxing," he informs me.  
  
"A break from all of this would be best," I tell him.  
  
"I'll make a few calls and we'll leave tonight," he says. He leans in to kiss me and we end up deepening the kiss very much. We hear the door open and both sit up, trying to act innocent.  
  
"Well, sorry to interrupt you two," that Russian filled voice says.  
  
"Yes, Sydney and I have decided to take a vacation," Sark tells Irina.  
  
"Oh really? To where?" she asks.  
  
"Nice," he replies.  
  
"Oh, to the lovely vacation home there, excellent choice Mr. Sark," she tells Sark.  
  
"Do you mind if I make a few phone calls?" he asks.  
  
"Not at all," she replies and gets out of the way and decided to come sit next to me on the couch.  
  
"Would you like to go shopping before the trip, Sydney?" my mother asks me.  
  
I glance over at Sark, and reply, "Well, we talked about leaving tonight, so would we have enough time?"  
  
"Of course, I have a lovely shopping center in the heart of the headquarters that all my employees shop at. There is a beautiful boutique there that has some things you would most enjoy," she so kindly informs me. How would she know what I enjoy.  
  
"Okay, I guess," I kindly reply.  
  
"Splendid, when we return I'll accompany you and we'll make it a mother daughter shopping experience!" she exclaims.  
  
I look over at Sark, who gives me a sympathizing look and I look back at my mother.  
  
"Sounds.. great," I can only reply without spewing the little food I've had recently.  
  
"Well, I have to check on a few of my possessions in the front office, so I'll return shortly," she says.  
  
She left and I went over to Sark, "You're honestly not going to make me go through that torture, are you?"  
  
"My love, I know how much you despise her, but I'm proud of how you didn't lash out as usual, just get used to her, she is a great woman," he tells me.  
  
"Don't even start now," I start.  
  
"Darling, I'm sorry." He stands up and kisses me. "We'll have an excellent vacation and it will be just you and I."  
  
"I know, I know," I can only reply.  
  
"Aren't you hungry, my love? I certainly am," he asks.  
  
"You know, with all these recent events, I totally forgot about eating! Now that you mention it, I am rather hungry."  
  
He picks up and phone and asks for two lunches and they are brought soon to the office. We sit down at the small table and start feasting on the salad.  
  
"This salad, it's excellent," I say.  
  
"Isn't it? I once had it at this quaint little deli in France and since then have had my cooks prepare it everywhere I go," he replies. Sark definitely had people under his thumb.  
  
"Any dessert?" I ask.  
  
"Actually, since I once heard you say cheesecake was one of your favorite desserts, I got us an excellent strawberry cheesecake," he says.  
  
"Aw, that's so nice," I say. The cheesecake was very good and we both were finished eating around the same time the plane landed. We got up and were the first ones off. We headed to the car and headed back towards the headquarters.  
  
It was official, I decided. I was now Andrew Sark's girlfriend, and do it freely on my own will. I had actually been captured by the CIA, but escaped so we could, I don't know, be together? How did I change? Did I fall in love with Sark? Am I in love with him? Hopefully this vacation will tell me.  
  
"Are you okay, honey?" he asks me in the car.  
  
I glance up from gazing out the window, "Fine, perfectly fine."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~~Like it? Review It! Thanks soooo much if you do!~~~ Masquerade! 


	17. Chapter 17

Author's Notes: What a great episode on Sunday! Once again, I want to give a big Shout Out to all my great reviewers. You have no idea how happy it makes me to read each and everyone of your reviews! Please keep on reviewing and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Good is soon to come, in more ways than one!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Alias, J.J. Abrams and ABC do, I just use them to have great fun!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**Sydney POV**  
  
  
  
We arrived back at the headquarters safely without any problems. I wonder if the CIA had any idea where this place was. Probably not. It is literally in the middle of nowhere. Anyway, we soon got back to Sark's apartment and I was able to shower and unwind a little. Honestly, I needed to take some drugs, some powerful ones, before I had to face my mother in our shopping experience. I was sitting on the couch and Sark had finally come back to the office.  
  
"Irina should be by shortly, she told me," he informs me.  
  
"Thanks," I give him my best fake smile. However, he knows me now, he frowns.  
  
He comes to sit next to me, "Syd, my love, what is wrong?"  
  
"I just, don't know. I'm worried about this little shopping get together."  
  
"Don't be worried, dear, Irina has excellent taste," he says.  
  
"I know," I reply.  
  
"Just relax and think of the great vacation we're going to take. We're going to leave tonight around nine and fly at night. I thought it would save time. Plus, we've been on planes so much lately I thought it would be more time effective," he informs me.  
  
"Great idea," I say.  
  
He scoots closer to me and gives me a kiss on the cheek, "I don't like to see you sad like this."  
  
"I'm not sad," I reply.  
  
"Don't try me Sydney, I can see right through you," he says. It was true. He could.  
  
"Sark, I mean, you don't mind if I call you Andrew, right?" I ask.  
  
"Not at all dear. As long as you want to."  
  
"Andrew, I can't decide if I'm going crazy. I've willingly escaped from the CIA. I've having problems coming to terms with the fact that I'm falling in love with you," I finally say.  
  
He looks stunned at me. Good thing or bad? Wasn't too sure. He then leans in and kisses me and it's a sign. He's in love with me, too.  
  
"Sydney Bristow, we're going to have this whole vacation to explore our feelings and this love that neither of us are two sure about, okay?" he replies.  
  
"Okay," I say and smile at him.  
  
We hear the door open and we briefly kiss and pull away before my mother gets in here. He holds my hand in between us to encourage me.  
  
"Well, just the two people I was looking for," she pronounces.  
  
"Isn't that ironic?" I sarcastically reply.  
  
"Indeed. Are you ready Sydney?" she asks.  
  
"I guess I'm ready as I'll ever be," I can only reply.  
  
"Fine, let's be off then," Irina replies and I get up and follow her to the door. Andrew follows me too and we stop for a second at the door.  
  
He kisses me on the lips, leans in for a hug and whispers, "Be a good girl."  
  
I pull away and smile and head out the door following my mother. Two men accompanied us, mostly likely her security detail. I followed her to a hallway I had been down before, but we took a turn down a smaller hallway. Then in front of me, a small area that resembled a mall appeared.  
  
"How much stuff can you fit in this place?" I mutter under my breath.  
  
"A lot actually," she replies, obviously hearing my comment. "I built the shopping area to please my employees. That's more than the CIA or that dreaded Arvin Sloane has ever done for you."  
  
I give her one of my deadly glares and proceed. She shows me to a very expensive looking boutique. We walk in and no one is in it, possibly because Irina had it cleared out for us. A small, Russian looking woman was at the cash register.  
  
"Good afternoon, ma'am," the lady said gesturing at Irina. Everyone sucks up, and it's defiantly apparent.  
  
"Good afternoon," Irina replies.  
  
"If you need anything, I can help you," the lady informed us.  
  
"I think we can handle ourselves," my mother tells the nice saleswoman. Probably wives or something of people she employs.  
  
She takes me over to racks and racks of different sweaters, shirts, pants, dresses, and skirts. I picked out a few things from here and there that I liked, plus a few on my mother's insistence and headed into the dressing room to try it all on. Slowly, I tried it all on, and waited until last to try on this nice sundress I had really liked.  
  
I got on the light blue short dress and opened the door to allow my mother to see. She looked at me and gasped. I didn't think it looked bad, but I guess it did in her evil eyes.  
  
"Oh my Sydney," she says.  
  
"Does it look that bad?" I only say.  
  
"No, of course not. It's beautiful."  
  
"Really?" I reply.  
  
"You look stunning. Mr. Sark will be very lucky to see you in that dress," Irina says.  
  
Her compliments didn't necessarily make me pleased, but hopefully Sark, I mean, Andrew, would enjoy it. It was weird calling him Andrew. Part of me will always think him as Sark. It's cuter and more mysterious that Andrew is.  
  
"Alright, I'll get out of this and we can go," I reply so I can get out of the bad situation.  
  
We get everything I picked out together and my mother signs something at the desk, probably verifying it was on her account, and we went back out of the store. I tried not to have to talk to her through the duration of our walk back to the apartment and was pretty successful. We headed in the door and set the bags down.  
  
"Well, I guess I owe you a thank you," I try to muster out to my mother. I actually said thank you to the woman.  
  
"Oh Sydney, the pleasure was all mine," Irina replies.  
  
"How did the shopping go?" he asks from the door.  
  
"Good," I say and walk up to him and kiss him on the cheek. "But you can't look at anything yet."  
  
"Alright, I can wait. Irina, there's a few business matters we need to discuss at the office," Sark says. That's weird. He's never been this business like since I've gotten here.  
  
"Ah, indeed," she replies.  
  
"I'll be back soon, my love," he informs me. "Get packed and such. I have put out a bag for your use."  
  
He kissed me once and left to go attend to their business. I wonder if it had anything to do with the SD-6 and Alliance take down he had talked about? Wishful thinking, probably. I decided to go pack, so I picked up my bags and went into the bedroom.  
  
  
  
  
  
I feel a slight nudge on my shoulder and realized I must have fallen asleep. Sure enough, I had and was lying on the bed. It was a comfy bed, by the way. I looked around. It looks as if I had finished packing, so that was a good thing. I then turned over to see who was tapping on my shoulder. It was Sark.  
  
"Hey," I say and smile at him.  
  
"Tired?" he asks.  
  
"Yeah, I guess. I was packing and I must have laid down," I reply.  
  
"You looked all ready, I just finished packing. I had some dinner prepared for us before we have to head for the airport," he informs me.  
  
"Good idea," I smile and say.  
  
We head into the dining room and a small meal was waiting there. A salad, a plate with a nicely prepared chicken and rice meal and wine. It was almost normal.  
  
"Are you excited?" he asks me mid-meal.  
  
"I kind of am actually, I'm kind of hoping I can learn a little bit more about you," I reply.  
  
"Oh really?" he asks.  
  
"Yes, silly, I don't know hardly anything about you!"  
  
"That is true, isn't it? I suppose I could fill in a few of the blanks for you, my love," Sark says and gently rubs my hand that we had interlocked.  
  
"What else do you have planned for us?" I ask him.  
  
"Well, how about we keep it a secret?" he replies in that sweet tone.  
  
"Don't mess with me."  
  
"Oh, I try not to," Sark says sweetly.  
  
We finish and head into the bedroom and grab our bags. We stop by Irina's office and say goodbye and then take the wonderful elevator. I really am beginning to like the long elevator ride. It is certainly comforting.  
  
We arrived at the top and headed towards the car that was waiting a few trees away. We walked hand and hand toward the car when a gun was placed on my head, and one on Sark's.  
  
"Stop right there, you two," the voice says. This one I recognize. This one was my father's.  
  
  
  
  
  
~I know, how awful of me! A cliffhanger, gasp. If you enjoyed it, please review!~ Masquerade 


	18. Chapter 18

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews last chapter! They definitely helped me to write this piece and I hope I'm getting back on track in my writing and characterizations. I know this chapter isn't as much fluff and such, but I hope I left open a door of opportunity for the future. Sorry it is shorter than the others, but I wanted to leave on one note!  
  
Disclaimers: I do not own the characters of Alias, J.J Abrams and ABC and all those magnificent people do!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**Sydney POV**  
  
"Well, Mr. Bristow, what a lovely surprise," Sark says to him in his cocky attitude.  
  
"Pleasure's all mine, Sark, so how about you let me talk to my daughter alone," he then replies.  
  
"I suppose that can be arranged," Sark tells my father.  
  
"Good deal. I'm going to take Sydney over to my car. I'll return her to you in a few minutes," my father informs Sark.  
  
Great. I was becoming the pawn in between whatever game my father was now playing. What did he want to talk about? And how did he find me? I found the latter question more important.  
  
I followed my father to his car that was off set in the trees a little. I briefly looked at Sark, but I couldn't judge his reactions. We reached the car and we both hopped in.  
  
  
  
"Sydney, what do you think your doing?" he asks me.  
  
"Great opener there, dad," I reply.  
  
"We may not have much time, let's get down to business," he informs me.  
  
"Sark, nah, he'll let me have as much time as I want," I can reply to him.  
  
My father seemed shook up, but continued, "Anyway, back to the original question. What do you think your doing?"  
  
"As in?"  
  
"Sydney, you've escaped from the CIA that had successfully rescued you, to only go off with the enemy again. If my intel is correct, I believe your both now heading out to a vacation house in Nice," he informs me. Ah, Father dear, your intel was right.  
  
"Yes?" I can only reply.  
  
"What are you thinking? Sydney, sometimes I can only take it so far with your far-fetched actions. Heck, the CIA can only take your actions to a point. So now tell me, what's going on between you and Sark?" he so matter of factly informs me.  
  
I sit back for a second and think what I should say to my father. He certainly did have a point. What was going on between us? And what am I thinking?  
  
"Honestly, dad, I don't even know," I say. My response made me give up.  
  
"Sydney," he starts.  
  
"Dad, you know, the whole time I've been with Sark I've tried to find reasons why I should be rescued. And also reasons for staying. The thing is, there seems to be an even amount of both and I'm torn between. So tell me Dad, what am I thinking?" I finally get out.  
  
"I don't know, but I'd sure like to," he replies.  
  
"I guess I was too caught up in the mysteriousness and magical aspect of my stay here," I am starting to understand my own actions.  
  
"So you'll return back to L.A. with me?" he asks.  
  
"But Dad, if I do, am I throwing away a love that I may never get to have? All the men I've every partially loved have died or been affected my career. Sark's the only one who's kept me not so worried about that."  
  
"I understand you Sydney, but how could you have even loved Sark at all? He's a cold-blooded killer who's probably got some ulterior motive to getting you to love him," my dad states.  
  
"So otherwise, you're saying Sark's using me, like Mom used you?" I say it. The words that need not be spoken, yet they were spoke.  
  
"I suppose in that context, then yes," he can only reply to me.  
  
"You might be right, but how can I be sure?" I ask him.  
  
"Come with me, and if your Mr. Sark really cares about you, he'll find a way to show it," my dad suggests.  
  
"Well, I guess your right. I've been blinded by my emotions this whole time, haven't I?" I reply.  
  
"That's very possible. Now, let's go. Let's tell your Mr. Sark that we're leaving," my dad says and opens the car door. I grab his hand real fast.  
  
"Dad, thanks."  
  
I think I actually saw him smile at that remark, but you never know. We walked back over to where Sark and his minions had gathered.  
  
  
  
"Mr. Sark, thank you for the opportunity to speak with my daughter," my dad begins.  
  
"Of course," he smartly replies.  
  
"Now, we're going to be leaving, if you don't mind, so it was nice chatting," my father informs Sark.  
  
"Excuse me?" he can only mutter out.  
  
"You heard me right, now if you don't excuse us, I believe my daughter and I have a plane to catch," my dad says. I was actually proud of my dad at that point. But I couldn't look at Sark. My eyes couldn't bear the agony that would come from looking into his.  
  
"Well, I suppose Sydney's stay has been over-stayed, so I guess your departure is necessary, my love," Sark says. I look up at him for that response.  
  
"Well, goodbye for now, Mr. Sark," my father says and we both turn away. I had remained quiet through the whole ordeal because I was afraid my emotions would cause me to stay.  
  
We were not too far away when I turn around and run back to him. I give him one last kiss.  
  
"I think I'll always love you," is all I can say to him before I quickly turn away and catch up to my father. There was no turning back now. It was all over, or was it? Only Sark had the right cards to play with.  
  
  
  
~~So what'd you think? What direction should I take this? The possibilities are endless! Leave me a review and tell me what you think!~~ Thanks, Masquerade! 


	19. Chapter 19

Author's Notes: Thank you to each and every one of my reviewers! I've gotten over 150 reviews and that totally rocks! I really hope you enjoy this chapter because I think you all will! I wrote it in excitement for tonight's episode! So I hope you enjoy, and please review!  
  
Disclaimer: The characters of Alias, especially the cute ones, belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**Sydney POV**  
  
After we got in the car it took all the energy I had not to cry. I didn't know why, but it felt like my heart had been shattered. Plus, it was my own decision. What was I thinking? Hopefully my dad was right, if he really likes me, he'd make a point to show it.  
  
We drove in silence to the airport. My father didn't attempt to start a conversation nor did I. I bet the CIA had a book load of questions for me when I got back to LA. I didn't know how I could answer them. Should I tell the truth? Should I hide some of the things I know? Hopefully the plane ride would clear my brain.  
  
We arrived at a small airstrip and I saw a few planes sitting on the runway. We drove up to one of the bigger ones, probably a cargo plane as usual, and headed up onto the back. I got nestled in on a little crate and grabbed a blanket or two. It was chilly in here. What I didn't notice is that there were two other agents there.  
  
"Sydney," my father said.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"This is Agent Michaels and Agent Thomas, they helped me find you," my dad tells me.  
  
"Okay," I reply.  
  
"Sydney, are you going to talk at all? Ever since we've left, you haven't said anything," my dad so matter of factly tells me.  
  
"I don't have anything to say," I say.  
  
That leaves them stunned and I sit back and peer out the small window that was located behind me. I noticed another small plane taking off and see that we were heading out to the outer runway. I just leaned back and closed my eyes. I really didn't want to have to talk to my dad yet. I couldn't.  
  
  
  
  
  
I was woken when the plane encountered a lot of turbulence. I looked out the window and it was dark, but I think we were over the ocean. It looked so peaceful. I grabbed a bag and noticed there was a bottle of water and some crackers. I took them out and started munching on them.  
  
"Hey, Sydney," my dad says. This could be trouble, the other two agents weren't there and I was stuck with having to talk to him.  
  
"Hi," I reply back. Keep it short and simple and maybe I won't have to go crazy.  
  
"Sydney, it's obvious to me that you don't want to talk about whatever's happened. Maybe it's because you're mad at yourself for actually coming with me, which I personally can't come to terms in believing, but I'm slowly trying to. I know that you are desperately hoping that Sark comes and proves his undying love for you. I just don't want you to get your hopes up for that."  
  
What was this? See how much my father could bash me today? I had to turn away my face to prevent him from seeing all the tears forming in my eyes. I did want him to come prove his undying love for me. I really hope he does just to prove my father wrong.  
  
"Sydney, look at me," my father says. I pull my head up, with puffy eyes and all and look at him.  
  
"If he comes to LA to see you, what are you going to do?" he asks me.  
  
"Love him," I reply.  
  
"Don't be foolish, Sydney," he starts.  
  
"I'm not. You don't understand me at all. I am regretting coming with you a little bit. Why? Because I feel something with Sark. And it's something I can have. We had the best time together, you just wouldn't understand."  
  
I can't believe I just said all of that. What was my dad going to think of me now?  
  
"Sydney," he says and tries to put his hand on mine.  
  
"Don't. It's obvious you don't want me to be happy. You never have. I hope Sark comes to LA to prove you wrong," I reply and force his hand off of mine.  
  
"Well, I'm glad we had this conversation," my dad says before going back over to where he was sitting. Oh please, my Andrew, please come whisk me away.  
  
  
  
I could feel the plane touch down and I got my few things together and joined the agents in getting off the plane. I had no idea what I was going to do. Were they taking me to the CIA? Or could I go home? And what was I going to tell Francie? Hopefully Will knew.  
  
I got into the car with my father and he started giving me the information.  
  
"Your going to the CIA right now for a debriefing and questioning," he informs me first.  
  
"Then, you can return home. Francie thinks you got held up at a two week conference in New York."  
  
"How'd she believe it?" I ask.  
  
"Will helped to convince her that you had called him and she lucky has been so busy with the restaurant to really notice," he tells me.  
  
"Okay," I reply.  
  
We rode in silence the rest of the way to CIA headquarters and I was certainly not looking forward to this questioning. I didn't know how I could face Vaughn either. I had a feeling this was going to be rough.  
  
  
  
I walked into the CIA operations center and felt it all coming back to me. The images of my mother's operation center, the apartment, Sark, everything. It was affecting me so badly. I tried to keep myself composed as I was led to a small conference room.  
  
I sat down and took a drink of water from the glass that was positioned in front of me. I was tired with the CIA's games. If they were going to turn this into another inquisition like after the Rambaldi prophesy, I was going to flip. The only natural thing to do was to not answer the questions to the fullest of my knowledge.  
  
Agent Kendall came in and I was oh so pleased to see my least favorite person here. He sat down in front of me and opened a file.  
  
"Welcome back, Agent Bristow," he starts.  
  
"I suppose," I reply.  
  
"I just have a few questions to ask you about your stay with Mr. Sark," he says.  
  
"Alright," I say and lean back.  
  
"Where did he keep you?" he first asks.  
  
"A few different places, one in England, another in Poland where my father found me," I reply vaguely.  
  
"Did he ever take you to his operations center?" he asks me. The big question. I had already decided on the answer.  
  
"Not that I know of, but then again, I was held in little rooms inside bigger buildings, so it is possible that I was there, but didn't know it," I reply. Good answer, Sydney. So I wasn't lying, totally.  
  
"Now, we have some information suggesting that you and Mr. Sark formed into a more personal relationship, you want to explain this?" he asks.  
  
"Not really," I reply.  
  
"How about I rephrase that? Tell me about your relationship with Mr. Sark?" he then says.  
  
"We became friends, okay?" I reply.  
  
"That's not what your father said," he counteracts me.  
  
"Then my father is delusional."  
  
"Okay, moving on, did you come in contact with Irina Derevko at all?" he asks me.  
  
"Yes," I proudly answer.  
  
He perks up at that, "In what capacity?"  
  
"She visited me once with Sark. It was a short interaction. I was stunned to learn she had escaped from the CIA," I say somewhat truthfully.  
  
"Yes, alright, I think we'll have some more questions for you later, but we'll let you get home for now," he tells me.  
  
"Thank you," I say and get up and leave the room. I quickly maneuver the room and head towards the exit. I didn't want to have to confront Vaughn yet. I knew I would break down in front of him.  
  
  
  
I got in the car the CIA got for me and headed home. I stopped at the airport and picked up my car and then went home. I was praying he was there. He could have been here by now. I just hope Francie wasn't there either, or Will for that matter. How could I ever explain to Will that I was falling in love with Sark? I don't think Will would ever talk to me again.  
  
I arrived home and it actually did feel refreshing. Francie's car wasn't here, so that was certainly helpful. I walked up into the house and walked into the kitchen, saw a note from Francie that welcomed me back, and put all my stuff down. I walked into the family room and I noticed I wasn't alone.  
  
"Hello, my love," his wonderful British accent informed me.  
  
I ran over and gave him the biggest hug and kiss. My life was now perfect.  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~Enjoy this chapter? Tell me in an oh so fun review!~~~ Masquerade 


	20. Chapter 20

Authors Notes: Sorry for the week long wait to update! You know how the Holidays get! I really hope you like this chapter because I had time to think about what I was going to write! Thanks again for the reviews, I love to read them all! This chapter has a lot of Fluff to make up for last chapters non-fluffiness! Enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Alias, the people at ABC do!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**Sydney POV**  
  
"You came!" I say as I pull away from our kiss.  
  
"Of course, my love. I wasn't about to let your father persuade you into irrational decisions," Sark tells me.  
  
"I knew it!" I exclaim.  
  
"I was thinking we could go out to dinner at this lovely little restaurant north of L.A," he explains.  
  
"Right now, that sounds perfect," I reply. "Let me run and get changed, and I'll be right back."  
  
"Alright," he says.  
  
I ran into my room and set down my purse and bags. I looked in my closet and found the most perfect little black dress I had and got changed quickly. I looked pretty disoriented, but I threw my hair up into a bun and came out into the family room. He was sitting at my couch looking through my photo albums.  
  
I sneak up behind him and say, "Enjoy what you see?"  
  
"Actually, I do. It's nice to see your carefree side. Wow." He looks at me and does a once over and his mouth practically drops open. "You look, amazing."  
  
"That's what I was going for."  
  
"Well, then, I suppose we should depart. Your car?" he asks.  
  
"Probably, just to avoid suspicion on Francie's part," I reply. I run over to the counter, scribble her a quick note, and head out the door hand in hand with my new found love.  
  
  
  
He directs me to north of town and we pull up in this quaint little Italian restaurant - Antonio's.  
  
"Is it safe?" I ask him before getting out of the car.  
  
"Yes, I had my security detail do a sweep of the perimeter and I have a bug killer to place at our table. Plus, ideally I doubt anyone would be looking here," he says and smiles.  
  
I lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek, "Thank you."  
  
We step out of the car and walk hand in hand into the restaurant. I allow him to address the hostess. He asks for a table for two and we are seated in the back corner booth, that wasn't very well lit. Perfect.  
  
"Wow," I say. We both sit in the same side of the booth and it felt perfect. Heavenly, actually.  
  
"Yes, my love?" he asks.  
  
"No, it's just this feels great. Like heavenly."  
  
"I know, this restaurant is great like that. Do you know what you want to order, dear?" he asks.  
  
"What's good?" I reply.  
  
"Well, the Fettuccini with Shrimp is excellent," he replies.  
  
"I guess that does sound pretty good," I smile back. Why did this feel like our first date? It technically was, but we had known each other for much longer than it was uncomfortable.  
  
The waitress came and we both ordered and Andrew picked out wine, considering that he had the most extensive knowledge about wines.  
  
"Does my mother know you're here?" I ask him after we had settled in.  
  
"No, she thinks I still went to Nice without you," he replies.  
  
"I see," I say and lingerly intertwine my fingers in between his.  
  
"What's on your mind, Sydney?" he asks me.  
  
"Everything, I suppose," I reply.  
  
"As usual, in your case," he says.  
  
"And yours too," I add.  
  
"I have a proposal for you," he starts. Proposal? What?  
  
"What do you mean?" I ask him.  
  
"Well, I know in our current state we can't really be together that much unless you abandon your cause and come live with me, which I know you won't be doing anytime soon," he begins.  
  
"Yes, continue," I reply.  
  
"So, I have a proposal," he says.  
  
"We've established that already."  
  
He cracks a smile at that and I can only smile right back. He looks down and our hands, interlocked, for one second, before he begins.  
  
"I will give you the location where at one given time your mother will be, which will allow the CIA to re-capture her," he explains.  
  
"Really? Why would you want to do that?" I ask him.  
  
"Before your mother returned, I had more power, this way I can get rid of her permanently," he says.  
  
"But I thought, you, I'm confused," I stuttered.  
  
He leans in closer to me and says, "Your mother got me involved in this life, and I intend on getting her out of it."  
  
"That's the most information you've given me about your past, ever," I reply.  
  
"True, what else would you like to know?" he asks.  
  
I giggle, and reply, "It seems we have gotten off of our previous topic."  
  
"We'll come back to it, now seriously, Sydney, I can't keep anything from the woman I love," he replies.  
  
"That's sweet," I say and lean in and kiss him. We stay there for a minute and then pull away when the waitress returns with our appetizers.  
  
We both give her an innocent look and look down at the breaded cakes or something like that appeared before us.  
  
"You first," he says.  
  
"Alright," I say and lean down and pick up the one he placed on a plate for me. They did look good.  
  
I started to eat when I felt something hard in the food.  
  
"OW!" I pulled it out of my mouth, and a beautiful ring appeared.  
  
"Wow!" I reply and stare at it. "Is this from you?"  
  
"Only the best for the best," he replies. He takes it from my hand and polishes it off. It was a small silver band with a beautiful blue stone in the center.  
  
"I wanted to give you something to always be able to think of me when we're not together, and when I saw this ring, it's beauty resembled your own, perfect in everyway," he says.  
  
I lean in and kiss him again, better than the time when the waitress interrupted us. He placed the ring on my finger in the process.  
  
We pulled away and I say, "I never knew you could be this romantic."  
  
"Well, once again, there's a lot you don't know about me. Ask me anything," he says and takes a bite of another cake.  
  
"Where is your favorite place in the world?" I ask him.  
  
"Nothing about my past?" he asks.  
  
"Nah, that's too obvious. We'll get to that later. I want to know about you first," I reply with a smile that reached a thousand miles.  
  
"Well, I suppose my favorite place would have to be New Zealand," he decides.  
  
"Really? Why?" I ask.  
  
"Well, when you're there, you feel as if you're a thousand miles away from anything, and it's very refreshing," he says.  
  
"I guess you'll have to take me there, then," I reply.  
  
"I suppose I should," he smiles back.  
  
We continue to talk, that seemed like ages, and enjoyed our food in the process. We both shared our favorite travel stories, since it seemed like we both knew enough about every major city in the world to become travel agents. When we had finished, and were done with dessert, it was late, and there was only two other couples left in the restaurant.  
  
"You know, you never gave me an answer, my love," he says.  
  
"About what?" I reply.  
  
"I tell you about your mother, in exchange for you coming to visit me every weekend," he says.  
  
"That's not very possible with SD-6 still around, plus wouldn't the CIA get suspicious as well?" I ask.  
  
"Not necessarily, we can be together on your missions as well. Plus, I'll take down SD-6 and that dumb Alliance in no time without your mother in charge," he tells me.  
  
"Alright," I decide. "But what am I supposed to tell the CIA? Oh, by the way, I heard Irina is going to be at this location at this time so you can recapture her?"  
  
"Something along those lines, now let's not worry about that for now, we have a whole night to enjoy," he suggests.  
  
"Now, what did you have in mind?" I reply.  
  
"For starters, I thought we could go for a walk on the beach, so let's leave this establishment," he starts.  
  
I smile back at him and we walk hand in hand out of the restaurant and onto the beach near by. We start walking silently down the beach and it feels perfect. I knew it, my father was wrong, and I was right. He did really love me.  
  
  
  
  
  
~~I know, lots of fluff! I hope you enjoyed it! Please tell me in a review!~~ Masquerade 


	21. Chapter 21

Author's Notes: Once again, props to all my fantastic reviewers. Also a shout out to all the writers who are starting to write more and more Syd/Sark fics! Always a great pleasure to read them all. I hope you enjoy this chapter and please feel free to review, it would be better than a Christmas present. Hopefully over the Christmas break I will be able to update frequently!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Alias, J.J. Abrams and his crew do!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**Sydney POV**  
  
  
  
A Year Later.  
  
  
  
"My love, it's been a long three days without you," he tells me and sweeps me up into his arms in a loving embrace. It had been a year since we had made the commitment to each other to secretly see each other until we could meet alone away from the spy life. We both continued our careers on separately and hardly anyone had noticed anything.  
  
We met secretly in northern California at a beach house we specifically bought for that purpose. I would tell Francie and Will I had bought the place to get away for the weekends and no one had really questioned me. We were extremely careful and no one had expected anything, to our knowledge. I never knew that having the true love of my life would mean secretly meeting him on weekends.  
  
"How was your week?" I ask him.  
  
"Good as usual, and yours, my darling?" he replies and we walk hand in hand into the living room to sit on our favorite couch.  
  
"The usual, I didn't have to go anywhere," I say with a smile.  
  
"I know, this past month has been relatively quiet in the international espionage world, hasn't it?" he ponders.  
  
"I wish it would stay like that," I tell him.  
  
We cuddle up together on the couch and he starts running his hand through my hair. So peaceful.  
  
"I'm afraid it may be picking up in the near future," he says.  
  
"What do you mean, dear?" I ask.  
  
"I'm going to do it, rather, my team is going to do it," he informs it.  
  
"Take down SD-6? Seriously? You've been saying that for a year," I tell him.  
  
"I know, love. This time, I mean it, and when I mean it, I really want to do this. That way you and me can go off to an island of our own and live there and get old together and have adorable children that will never be introduced into this crazy life we lead," he says dreamily.  
  
I start to tear up, "You really think about all that stuff?"  
  
"Everyday."  
  
I lean in and kiss him before pulling away and saying, "I knew I loved you for a reason."  
  
"Of course," he smiles back.  
  
"What are we going to do tonight?" I ask.  
  
"I was thinking dinner on the beach, if that is okay with you," he says.  
  
"Perfect."  
  
"Good, I'll get it set up and how about you go make yourself even more beautiful than you are," he tells me.  
  
I give him one kiss and stand up, "I have the perfect thing, too."  
  
"Then I can't wait, then."  
  
  
  
  
  
I head into my bathroom and open up my bag I brought for the weekend. I was shopping this week with Francie and found the cutest pink dress that I loved, and knew my Andrew would too. I got it out of my bag and laid it out to admire. It wasn't too long, or too short, for that matter, but right below my knees.  
  
I headed into the shower. It felt pretty good. Being at this house was always refreshing because it helped me to feel like a normal person. I could leave all my problems and spy life at home and come here and relax. We made it customary to only talk work as soon as we got there to get it off our chest, but after that, no work. It was only us.  
  
He had stuck up to his end of the deal, several months ago. He told me when my mother would be at an airport in Greece and I had a CIA team go in there and capture her. They didn't ask me how I knew, even though my father and Vaughn were both very skeptical.  
  
Vaughn, yes, Vaughn. Ever since Sark and I have been together, we've had a strained relationship. He's not the one I can tell everything to anymore and it's become hard. He obviously knows something is going on, because I have that special glow about me when I am happy, especially when I return home from a good weekend. He's never really asked me about it, which is a good thing I suppose.  
  
I take time to think about everything as I dry off from my shower. Then there's my mother. I've only talked to her once since the CIA re- captured her, and needless to say, all I had to say was leave me alone. I didn't want her saying anything, because the CIA could guess about our relationship if she said too much.  
  
I put the dress on and gently dry my hair. I take the hair dryer and blow it dry softly, letting it gently rest on my shoulders naturally. One time, Andrew told me that he loved my hair naturally down and ever since I've worn it like that. I add a little bit of makeup to my face, a smudge of lip gloss and face powder. Enough to hardly be noticed.  
  
I come out of my bathroom and place the bag on the floor and head down the spiral staircase.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Honey?" I call. I look around and see no one, so I peak out the window and see him returning to the house from the beach. I head over to the door.  
  
He opens the door and his eyes do a once over. He stares at me and says, "I'm never going to get bored at looking at your sheer beauty."  
  
I walk up to him and kiss him deeply and pull away and say, "I love you Andrew."  
  
"Sydney, I love you more than anything."  
  
"Are we ready?" I ask.  
  
"Of course, my lady," he says and locks our hands elbow to elbow and walks me down to the beach to the little hut with a table and two chairs set up. Two candles lit the center of the table and it was decorated with a pink rose.  
  
He pulls out my chair for me and I reply, "Thank you, dear."  
  
He places two plates of food on our table and I admire the care he put into them. He actually was a pretty good cook if you didn't have his cook around to do it for him. I told him that he was only allowed to have one guard at the front door of our house and otherwise, it was up to us to protect ourselves. He always kept a gun on himself, even though he would never admit it, but I think it was rather to protect me. I think protecting me was what he liked doing best.  
  
  
  
  
  
We finished quickly and he took my hand and gently led me to the beach. Out of nowhere, slow music began to play and we began to slowly dance. Dancing was one of our favorite pastimes and we did it all the time. We slowly swayed together with the music and our bodies stayed connected as I leaned in onto his shoulder.  
  
He whispered to me, "I love you, my lovely Sydney."  
  
I kissed him gently on the neck several times and pulled my head up and started kissing him on the lips and we continued until I heard something in the trees on our property.  
  
"What was that?" I ask to him quietly.  
  
"It's nothing, love, probably a squirrel or something," he replies smoothly. I sense him tense up, so it is my assumption he also was scared.  
  
We didn't even know what hit us until the four pairs of eyes glared us down with guns in hand.  
  
"Put your hands up," one of the men said. Not just any man, this had to be Vaughn.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~~A Cliffhanger! Ahh! Review and I write faster! Thanks again for reading~~Masquerade 


	22. Chapter 22

Author's Notes: Thank you again for the reviews! I hope everyone is having a happy holiday as well! I'm afraid to say I'm coming to an end with this story and it should be wrapped up in two chapters or so. I'm thinking about doing a sequel, so any ideas after you read this chapter would be greatly appreciated. Thanks again for reading!  
  
Disclaimer: Alias is not owned by me, but by the great men at ABC, most specifically J.J. Abrams!  
  
  
  
  
  
**Sydney POV**  
  
I glanced over at Andrew and we both stand back from each other and I give him a quick hand squeeze before we are parted. I noticed he went for his gun, but decided against it, most likely since we were out numbered. We turn and look at the men and I have to look down because I couldn't stand to look up at Vaughn, yet.  
  
I scanned the men, Vaughn and my father were standing right in front of us and then two other men flanked them on each side.  
  
"What a lovely surprise, Mr. Bristow, Mr. Vaughn," Andrew tells them. I found it best to keep my mouth shut, right now.  
  
"And you as well, Sark," my father replies.  
  
I couldn't stand it any more, "I think you guys have it all wrong here."  
  
"Oh really, Sydney? Care to share how we have it all wrong?" Vaughn replies. I feel like I'm betraying them, but I wasn't.  
  
"How about we continue this in the house?" Sark asks.  
  
Why did he do that? I wasn't too sure, but he had something up his sleeve.  
  
"I suppose, but you better not be trying anything," Vaughn says.  
  
My father and one of the other agents lead us in and Vaughn and the other agent follow us behind. I grasp Sark's hand on the way in and we make it into the living room and they usher us to sit on our couch.  
  
I sit down and Andrew sits closely to me and the men stay standing. I glance over at Andrew for support, but all he can give me is a comforting squeeze and a smile.  
  
"Now, where were we Sydney? You were going to enlighten us on this arraignment, I believe?" my father asks in his harsh tone.  
  
"Mr. Bristow, you of all people should know that your daughter would never betray your beloved country," Sark tells them. It was true, but how could I convince them of it?  
  
"Now, is that true Mr. Sark? Are you implying that I don't know my daughter?" my father snaps back at him.  
  
"Yes, you obviously don't if you can't realize that what Sydney and I have is just a romantic relationship, not one built on trading secrets," Sark replies. I was really impressed at his answers. They were good.  
  
"Now really? What do you have to say Sydney? Is what Sark says true?" Vaughn asks me.  
  
"You haven't noticed it? Francie actually had, once. She asked me, Sydney, why are you so happy now? Are you seeing someone? Of course I said no, but my life had new meaning. I wanted to do well in my missions knowing that I could come home to Andrew for the weekends and be able to get away from the crazy life that I have. You obviously haven't noticed," I say and turn away from them both.  
  
"And you're trying to tell me in all of this, you did not share information on your missions with Sark here?" Vaughn asks.  
  
"Not really. We go over how our weeks have been, just asking if we had a good or bad one, any new bruises, where we went, etc. It's not like I was sharing national secrets with the man. If he really wanted to find out anything, I think he perfectly could," I reply. In all of this, it occurs to me that my stomach had started to become unsettled. Perfect timing, wasn't it?  
  
"When did this all start?" Vaughn asks. I had a feeling my father already knew the answer to that question.  
  
"Last year," Andrew replies.  
  
"A year?!?" Vaughn exclaims.  
  
"It really started the day of my return from being held hostage, wouldn't it have?" I ask Andrew.  
  
"Indeed," he adds.  
  
At that moment, it appears to me that I probably was going to vomit. I make a dash for the bathroom and one of the men follow behind me. I barely make it there, but the toilet had become my new best friend.  
  
"Are you okay, Sydney?" Vaughn asks.  
  
I look up at him not too pleased, "Will, please, let Andrew come here?"  
  
He sighs, but obviously gives in because sure enough, he's there in a few seconds, rubbing my back.  
  
"Are you okay, darling?" he asks.  
  
He hands me a towel and we are both sitting on the floor, me next to the toilet, and Andrew by the door. An agent stood outside while we were there.  
  
"Doesn't look like it? Does it?" I reply.  
  
"There's the girl I know and love," he says.  
  
"I got sick the other day, but I just thought it was the flu or something, I didn't really think much of it," I tell him. It was true.  
  
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asks.  
  
"It couldn't be, but I'll go to the doctor's," I tell him.  
  
"Good, now here's a glass of water," he says as he hands me a glass from the sink. I swish it around in my mouth and spit it out into the toilet. I could never imagine having a child, but actually, it sounded, almost perfect now.  
  
I leaned it to him and he kissed me on the forehead and rubbed my back. It almost was if there was no one out there to remind us of the rest of our lives, but reality bites.  
  
He whispers in my ear, "It's all going down this week, and then we'll share a normal life together."  
  
Of course, this makes me smile and I turn up to face him. He kissed me on the cheek and helped me get up. I took the time to brush my teeth and then afterwards, gave him a kiss on the lips.  
  
"Excuse me?" Vaughn said interrupting us.  
  
"Oh, yes, Mr. Vaughn," Andrew says.  
  
"We'd like to continue, of course, if you're feeling better Sydney," he tells us.  
  
"I'm fine," I reply.  
  
We walk back into the living room and sit back in our lovely positions on the couch, this time with a glass of water in hand.  
  
"So, where were we?" my father says.  
  
"We were discussing when our relationship began," Sark tells them.  
  
"That's right, and how long have you two been frequenting this house on the weekends?" Vaughn asks.  
  
"For about six months," I reply.  
  
"Wait a second," my father says. I think he might be figuring out that Sark isn't all that bad after all.  
  
"How did you exactly know about Irina's whereabouts?" he then asks.  
  
"I think we all know the answer to that question," I reply.  
  
"I despised Irina, contrary probably to your beliefs, and guaranteed Sydney that I could give her back to the CIA, and delivered, of course," Sark tells them.  
  
"You've actually helped the CIA?" Vaughn says.  
  
"You might think I'm working for a bad cause, but all my work is for the greater good, to help find out what Rambaldi was doing," he tells them.  
  
I look over at him and smile. He smiles back and realizes we are good to go.  
  
"And if you wait a week, I think you'll be thanking me," he informs them. I don't think that's the smartest thing to be saying, but if he wants to tell him his plans, that's his choice.  
  
"Oh really, Sark. Would you care to enlighten us?" my father asks.  
  
"Not today, but call me later and I'll think about it," he remarks back.  
  
"It's getting awful late, so unless you actually have cause for your staying here, could you please leave?" I say.  
  
"I'm still not sure about you two, but we'll give you a week, and if you do anything we don't like, you'll regret it," my father says. Mostly, I believe, he's directing that at Andrew, but it partially includes me.  
  
"Mr. Bristow, at the week's end, I believe that we'll be friends, not enemies," Sark tells him.  
  
The start filing out the door and I stand up and Andrew joins me. I lean in and hug him and plant kisses on his cheek.  
  
He leans in and whispers, "That was almost tragic."  
  
I pull away and reply, "I know."  
  
He takes my hand and we both head up the stairs and watch as the men pile into their cars and drive off. We enter our bedroom and both have to relax, so we do our favorite thing.  
  
"Hot tub?" I ask him.  
  
"Perfect idea, love," he replies.  
  
The best part of the whole house was the hot tub we had installed in our balcony of our bedroom. We had spent many nights in it, and it was well worth it.  
  
We both changed and headed into the hot tub. We enjoyed the silence for a moment before our conversation began.  
  
"I want this week to be over," I tell him.  
  
"I believe I do more than you," he replies.  
  
"That no fair," I say and kiss him on the cheek.  
  
"After it's all over, we can move to some where exotic," he tells me.  
  
"Oh really? How about New Zealand?" I ask him.  
  
"That might actually work," he says.  
  
"Or Tahiti," I add.  
  
"But before we would do that, would we have to get married my love?" he asks.  
  
I stop a second and wonder if that's a proposal? He turns behind him and gets something. He turns around and low and behold, there lay a beautiful, opal ring. He knew it was my favorite stone and I once told him I could never do diamonds.  
  
"Sydney, my love, would you do the honor in sharing your magnificent life with mine in marriage?" he asks very romantically.  
  
I lean over and kiss him, "Yes, of course I will." We kiss again. It's wonderful. What will my dad say now?  
  
"I was meaning to do it earlier, but we had some unexpected guests," he adds.  
  
"Nah, didn't mind them at all," I smile back at him.  
  
This week had to go well, hopefully with the destruction of SD-6 and Sark proving he isn't all that bad, we'll get out of this life and move away where no one can find us. And I would begin a whole new life with the man I love.  
  
  
  
~~ 'Tis the season to review! Thanks for reading ~~ Masquerade 


	23. Chapter 23

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews I received last chapter and for all the chapters! I'm coming to the end with this story and it will be completed after the next chapter. This is my longest chapter yet so I hope you like it! As always, please review, especially if you'd like to see a sequel!  
  
Disclaimer: The characters of Alias are owned by ABC and all those that make them.  
  
  
  
**Sydney POV**  
  
The week began very slowly. Monday seemed to drag on forever as I was forced to sit around in boring meetings at both SD-6 and the CIA. My father and Vaughn still seemed skeptical at me, but I just acted normally and allowed them to judge for themselves. Sloane seemed normal at SD-6, so I'm hoping he doesn't suspect anything. Monday night I sat around and watched TV, Francie was occupied as usual with the restaurant and Will had a new girlfriend that seemed to keep him busy.  
  
I was sitting at my couch enjoying Nick at Night when my phone rang, not just my normal phone or cell phone, but the one Andrew and I had as our private line. It made me happy to just see it ring.  
  
"Hello?" I ask.  
  
"Hello, love, how are you?" he asks me.  
  
"Bored, waiting, sitting around," I reply.  
  
"I know, it's rough, guess where I'm at right now?" he questions me.  
  
"Hm.. I wish you were with me," I sadly reply.  
  
I hear the doorbell ring and gasp over the phone.  
  
"Are you.." I can only squeak out.  
  
"Why don't you answer the door? It's rude to keep your guests waiting, isn't it?" he says over the phone.  
  
"Alright," I say cautiously and walk over to the door and open it. There before me, Andrew stood with a dozen or so roses.  
  
I hug him and quickly pull him inside.  
  
"Is it safe for you to be here?" I ask him.  
  
"Safe enough," he replies.  
  
I stop a second, "I love you."  
  
"Sydney, I love you more than humanly possible," he replies and we lean in and kiss. We pull apart and I realize my cell phone is still on.  
  
"Oops, forgot about that," I reply and giggle.  
  
"You want to sit down?" he asks.  
  
"Lets, but first let me put these flowers in a vase," I answer.  
  
I walk over to the kitchen and place them in a vase that Francie had. I knew she wouldn't mind. It would be weird without her around, to think in a week I'll disappear and she'll be heartbroken.  
  
We walk into the family room and take a seat on the couch. We snuggle together and just stay quiet for a minute.  
  
"Why'd you come?" I ask to break the silence.  
  
"Well, my team is moving in on Wednesday, so we had to get prepped," he replies.  
  
"Oh, okay," I say.  
  
"Did, you, go to the doctor?" he asks very reluctantly. One thing I've learned about Andrew is that he gets straight to the point, and he was defiantly showing some resistance in asking that question.  
  
"Not yet, that reminds me, I should make an appointment," I reply.  
  
"Get it for Wednesday between 9-12," he tells me.  
  
"Oh, okay, good idea, that way I don't have to be at work," I say.  
  
"Exactly, on Thursday, I'll meet you at a location that I will leave in an envelope that will be delivered here if all goes well on Wednesday," he informs me, in his action mode.  
  
"Sounds like a plan," I answer.  
  
"Did, did you tell your father anything today?" he asks.  
  
"Not particularly, he was being cold to me, just like he used to be a few years ago," I reply. I sigh and he notices.  
  
"Are you okay, Sydney?" he asks and places his hand on my cheek.  
  
"I just want it all to end, you know," I reply to him.  
  
I start to slowly cry and he holds me and rubs my back while we just sit there, but we are both startled when we hear the sound of the door opening.  
  
"Sydney!" Francie calls from the door and I glance up at Sark and we slightly pull ourselves away from each other.  
  
"In here, Francie," I reply.  
  
"Who'd you get the flowers..uh.hi!" she says reluctantly as she walks in and sees Andrew and I rather cozy on the couch.  
  
"Francie, this is my friend, Andrew," I introduce the two. Hopefully Will wouldn't figure out by calling him Andrew.  
  
"Pleasure's all mine," he tells her. He can be sweet.  
  
"I got off early tonight and I thought we could do something, but I guess your busy Sydney," Francie says with a cold tone.  
  
"No, of course not, you want to play a game or something with us?" I ask her and throw a pleading look over at Andrew, who looked actually happy.  
  
"Are you sure? I mean, it looked like I was ruining something special here," she says. Francie, I gotta love you for that.  
  
"We're positive," he responds.  
  
"All right, but let me get changed and I'll be right back," she says and goes into her bedroom.  
  
Once she was out of earshot, I say, "You don't mind?"  
  
"Not at all, dear, I want to be a part of your life in every way, and I know how much it pains you that we're going to leave your friends behind, so I want to let you have every moment you can left with them," he says.  
  
"Wow, I love you," I can only reply.  
  
"What are we going to play?" he asks me.  
  
"Well, I think today's choice will be a personal favorite of mine, the Game of Life," I reply.  
  
"Oh really?" he smiles back.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure of it now," I reply.  
  
I go over to the cupboard with the games and pull it out and bring it over to the coffee table. I start to get the pieces out and he just sits there and is watching.  
  
"Well, aren't you going to help me?" I finally ask him.  
  
"I'd rather sit and watch," he replies.  
  
"Fine, be that way," I reply in my sarcastic tone, one that had developed immensely with the depth of our relationship.  
  
Francie walks back in and comes over to the couch and sits in one of the chairs just as I was finished setting the game up.  
  
"Life?" she asks.  
  
"I thought it was a fitting choice," I reply and quickly glance over at Andrew.  
  
"Sounds good to me," she says.  
  
We begin the game and Francie still hasn't started her twenty questions process with Andrew yet. I was just waiting for her to begin, and around the third roll, she started with the questions as it was my turn.  
  
"So, Andrew, do you work with Sydney?" she asks him first.  
  
"I suppose you could say that," he replies.  
  
"Your accent, are you from England or something?" she then asks.  
  
"Used to be, born in Ireland actually," he answers.  
  
"Where do you live now?" her next question asks.  
  
"Well, I guess I'd have to say it depends, part of the time I live in northern California, but I might be moving to something more permanent soon," he answers.  
  
"Uh, Francie, your turn," I tell her and pass her the dice. She looks down at my hand and it occurs to me that I had forgotten to take off my engagement ring while she was in the bedroom.  
  
"OH MY GOSH! Sydney! Where did you get that ring?" she asks.  
  
Well, I guess the cat's out of the bag now, I thought.  
  
"I gave it to her," Andrew quickly responds.  
  
"Really? It's beautiful," she can only reply.  
  
"Just as beautiful as you are, my love," he responds to me and places a kiss on my hand.  
  
"Are you two dating or something?" she asks.  
  
"Well, not technically," I reply.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean? Does your employers not let people date at the bank or something?" she asks.  
  
"In a weird way, I guess you could say that's true," I reply. Gosh, I hate lying to Francie, but my only leverage is I didn't want her involved like Will was.  
  
He gives me a squeeze of the hand and it's his turn to go. He rolls the dice and lands on a baby boy. We both look over at each other for a second and smile.  
  
"OOOH! First baby of the game! Good job Andrew," Francie tells him. He smiles back at her kindly.  
  
  
  
We continue the game until I finally reach the end and retire as they call it. Retiring sounds like the perfect thing right now and was going to be happening so shortly.  
  
"It's getting late," Andrew says.  
  
"Oh, it is, isn't it?" Francie replies.  
  
I walk him to the door and Francie walks close behind and then into the kitchen. "It was nice meeting you, Andrew."  
  
"And you the same, Francie," he tells her.  
  
I open the door and we walk out onto the front stoop. Not exactly the best place to be standing, considering SD-6 could be watching and see me with Sark on my front stoop. Probably be shot for that.  
  
"I had a really great time," he tells me.  
  
"I'm glad you stopped by," I reply.  
  
He leans in and kisses me, "You know that we'll make it through this and then the world will be ours to venture."  
  
"I know," I say before kissing him one last time. "You should probably go, but I'll see you in a few days."  
  
"Goodbye, Sydney," he says and quietly walks around the block where he parked his car, for safety of course. I watch him walk away until I can't see him any longer and he turns around and gives me one last smile.  
  
  
  
I walk in the door and quietly shut it behind me. Now it was time for Francie's firing squad part two.  
  
"Why didn't you ever talk about him before?" she asks me right away.  
  
"Well, we weren't getting that close, and we didn't really want to commit yet, so I didn't see the use," I lie to her with all the courage I can.  
  
"You couldn't keep from telling me about that hunk?" she says.  
  
"I know, he's cute, isn't he?" I reply and smile.  
  
"Wow, you've got it bad for him, don't you?" she then says.  
  
"I think I do."  
  
  
  
Tuesday went by even slower than Monday and I was stuck at home, again. This time, I had no excitement due to the fact Francie had to stay later at work and Andrew never showed up, even though I wasn't expecting him to. I did go for a run after work and caught up on some laundry and made myself a gourmet feast for dinner. It was all I could do to curve my boredom.  
  
I got an appointment with the doctor, tomorrow at 10 am. I was kind of nervous to go, but honestly, wouldn't be sad if I had a baby. We were getting married and starting a family would certainly be fitting.  
  
I was getting ready to go to bed around 9 and actually get a full night's sleep when I hear the doorbell ring. Part of me wanting it to be Andrew, whisking me away to Tahiti, but when I opened the door, only the cold, blank stare of my father received me.  
  
"Hey, dad," I welcome him and allow him to enter the house.  
  
"Hello, Sydney," he replies.  
  
"Is something wrong?" I ask him.  
  
"I thought we could talk," he says.  
  
"Okay," I reply and take us into the dining room and we both sit down at the table.  
  
"You know, when I first heard a report that you had been seen kissing Mr. Sark, I had never thought it to be true. So, I investigated a little more and was able to find you two. I know I seemed to be a little mad, but honestly, you have to understand, it doesn't look that good to the people at the CIA," he tells me.  
  
"Screw um," I reply.  
  
"Not the best idea for you right now, but Sydney, what I do want you to know is that, if he makes you happy, and you are happy, then that's fine with me."  
  
I could believe it. "Really. dad?"  
  
I start to cry and we both stand up and share a hug.  
  
"Dad, I'm going to tell you something only because I think I can trust you, and you have to promise me not to say a word to anyone, or else I think he would actually kill you," I start.  
  
"Okay," he replies skeptically.  
  
"Tomorrow, Sark is destroying SD-6. He's sending his team in and stealing all the worthy Rambaldi artifacts, killing Sloane, and ushering all the innocent people at that horrible place out before he blows the place to pieces, and the only reason I'm telling you this, is so that you don't go to work tomorrow and get caught up in it all," I told him.  
  
He just stays still for a moment and looks down before looking me straight in the eyes and saying, "Why?"  
  
"And if your wondering, he's going to turn in all the artifacts to the CIA," I add.  
  
"Sydney, you must know why?" he asks again.  
  
I sigh, and then begin, "It's been a long term project of his for two years and I have a feeling he's wanted to get the job done ever since we've started dating."  
  
"Are you sure he's not pulling your string?"  
  
"Oh trust me, he's not."  
  
He looks down for a moment, unsure where to take our conversation and something makes him peek his head up.  
  
"Where did you get that ring? From him?" he asks.  
  
"Well, I've been meaning to tell you, but we're getting married," I inform him.  
  
"Married? Sydney, I think you're making a bad mistake here," he starts protesting.  
  
"No, really, Dad, I know perfectly well what I'm getting into here. This is not you and mom," I scorn him.  
  
"Alright, I'm going to try to stay calm, and accept that this is what is making you happy, then so be it."  
  
"Thank you for that, dad," I tell him.  
  
"Alright, so I should be going now," he says and stands up.  
  
I walk him to the door and say, "You have to promise me you won't tell anyone at the CIA, not even Vaughn."  
  
"Alright," he says, admitting defeat.  
  
"Dad, I just want you to know that whatever happens, I'll always love you and I forgive you for everything that's happened between us in the past, and I will always love you."  
  
"Sydney," he says before we share one last embrace and he walks quietly out the door. It may be the last time I see him.  
  
Tomorrow, the past two days have gone by so slowly it seems like it would never come. Now, I'm just a few short hours away from feeling victory.  
  
  
  
~~One more chapter to go and it's done! Please tell me what you'd think of a sequel or anything in a review~~ Masquerade 


	24. Chapter 24

Author's Notes: This is it! The very last chapter! I'm done! I am thinking about a sequel and what direction I could take. Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me throughout the entire story. Any last comments and reviews would be greatly cherished as I have had a blast writing this story. Enjoy! And read my new fic- Sweetest Thing!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Alias, they are owned and created by J.J. Abrams and ABC.  
  
**Sydney POV**  
  
  
  
I sat in the waiting room of the doctor's office trying to imagine the scene taking place at SD-6. I flipped through a parenting magazine waiting for my name to be called and glanced around at all the people waiting as well. Part of me wished I were pregnant, only so that my life could go to some sort of normalcy. I just hope that Andrew would be able to finish the job, as he called it, so we could go away.  
  
"Sydney Bristow?" a short looking woman called.  
  
I stood up and followed her to the door and entered the hallway into my examining room. I patiently got on the bed and waited for my doctor to enter.  
  
I sat there for a few minutes and glanced down at my cell phone, only to realize I had to turn it off in the doctor's office. I was getting nervous and was frightened something was going to go wrong. I doubt anything would, but still, I was nervous.  
  
The door creaked open and my doctor, Dr. Adams, walked in.  
  
"Sydney, how nice to see you," she says.  
  
"And you too," I reply.  
  
"Now, you said you wanted to see if you are pregnant, right?" she asks me.  
  
"That's right," I tell her.  
  
"Where's the father?" she asks me in follow up.  
  
"He's at work right now," I answer her, which in the scheme of things, is true.  
  
"I see," she replies.  
  
She does her thing and draws some blood, among other things and says she'll be back in a few minutes. I reach down and grab a magazine lying in the basket and flip through the pages until a picture catches my eye.  
  
It is a family, a mother, a father, and three children. That is when it hits me, that this picture symbolizes what I want to have, and all of it I want with Andrew. And if anyone tries to get in my way, they'll regret it.  
  
  
  
I glance down at my watch and it reads 10:23. I hear the door creak open again and Dr. Adams has an indeterminable look upon her face that I as a spy, couldn't even read. She glances down at her clipboard a couple of times before she glances up at me and gives a small smile.  
  
"Now, would you prefer a boy or girl?" she asks me.  
  
I'm stunned. I stay with my mouth wide open in awe for a minute before I realize how great this is. I'm pregnant!  
  
"Sydney, you okay?" she then asks me after a minute or two.  
  
"Very okay, better than okay, I'm great!" I tell her.  
  
"Good, now, if you want, I'll have the lab go over everything to make sure you're okay and such, and we'll give you a call in a week or so with more information, alright?" she informs me.  
  
"Sounds great," I tell her. Lying to her, because in a week, I will be somewhere far away from here.  
  
  
  
I walk out the doctor's office with a new bounce in my step, one of meaning and purpose. I had something to live for now. A beautiful child that would be born in 9 months. I couldn't even imagine.  
  
I sat in the driver's seat in my car and turned on my cell phone. I looked and saw, one new message. I could only imagine the different people that it could possibly be.  
  
"Hey, Sydney, I was wondering if you wanted to do something for lunch, just drop by the restaurant and we can chat!" Francie's comforting voice tells me over the phone. Actually, that sounded wonderful right now, so I start driving in the direction of her restaurant.  
  
If SD-6 were tracking me right now, they probably would have no indication that I was in anyway apart of the take down. I wanted badly to pass by the building to see if I could tell, but I took a different way to avoid that scenario. Soon enough I pulled in the parking lot behind her restaurant and walked in the door.  
  
"Sydney!" she calls from behind the bar. I was really going to miss her when I moved away, or rather, disappeared.  
  
"Hey, Francie!" I reply and walk over and we share a quick hug.  
  
"Here, let's sit down, it's awful quiet right now," she tells me.  
  
"Alright," I tell her.  
  
"Don't you have to be at work?" she asks me.  
  
"I had a doctor's appointment and told the band that I wasn't coming in until 1," I tell her lying through my teeth.  
  
"I see," she replies. "So, now, you have to give me the 411 on that guy that was over at our house the other night."  
  
"Well, he works in the same business I do, he just works for a different bank," I tell her, giving the best lie I could come up with.  
  
"Where'd you two meet?" she asks me.  
  
"At a conference one," I tell her. Once again, lying. But in truth, we did meet at a conference, one of the spying and stealing type.  
  
"He seems really nice," she adds.  
  
"He is, he's very charming and knows how to keep me happy," I inform her. He does know how to keep me happy, that's for sure.  
  
  
  
We chit chat for a little while longer and eventually I tell her goodbye and head home. By now, the messenger should have come with the details if all was well. I walked up to my front door to see a small package lying on the doorstep.  
  
I walked in and started to frantically unopen it when I realize I wasn't alone. I spin around and see my father waiting on the couch in my living room.  
  
"Dad!" I exclaim.  
  
"You were right," he says to start.  
  
"Did it work?" I ask him.  
  
"Sure did," he says. "He had all the innocent employees leave the building and Sark shot Sloane himself. I was there, then, he got everyone out of the building and blew it up."  
  
I smiled and replied, "Gosh, do I ever love him."  
  
"Sydney, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Sark isn't that bad, I've found out, and whatever you do, I'll understand," he says. "And also, thanks for the heads up. I wasn't totally surprised today."  
  
I go over and hug him and pull back and say, "Dad, I love you."  
  
"Sydney," he says before we hug again.  
  
We both pull away and I walk over to the package on the step.  
  
"What's that?" he asks me.  
  
"We'll see," I tell him.  
  
I open it and inside lay a plane ticket to Sydney, Australia. How ironic, isn't it? I pull out a note below the ticket.  
  
It read:  
  
Sydney, my love:  
  
We'll have to fly separately, but I will meet you at the baggage terminal at the airport in Sydney. I know you probably hate me for picking Sydney, but remember this, I love you.  
  
Andrew.  
  
I start to cry and my dad puts a hand on my shoulder. I turn around to face him.  
  
"It's finally done. Dad, I'm going away tomorrow, and I'm probably not going to be coming back, but I want you to know, that I will always love you, and keep strong."  
  
He nods in understanding and walks out the door as I start to gather a few things up.  
  
  
  
That night, I had most of the things I wanted to take packed secretly without any suspicion on Francie's part. I had settled down with a glass of tea and was beginning to watch a movie when my special cell phone rang.  
  
"Hello?" I ask.  
  
"Hello, love," he says.  
  
"Andrew, I've missed you," I tell him first.  
  
"Not as much as I have, love," he adds.  
  
"Now, would you personally prefer a boy or girl?" I ask him hinting at my pregnancy.  
  
"Oh really? I'd have to say a girl," Andrew tells me.  
  
"Why's that?" I ask him curiously.  
  
"So I can have two beautiful girls to look at," he says.  
  
"Wow, I love you," I say.  
  
"So, you're pregnant, I'm assuming?" he asks me.  
  
"Right on the button," I kid with him.  
  
"That's great, love," he tells me.  
  
"What's going on? Where are you?" I ask him.  
  
"Answer to the first is not a whole lot and the answer to the second is high in the sky," he informs me.  
  
"I like both replies," I tell him.  
  
"I'm glad."  
  
"Is everything set?" I ask him.  
  
"Everything."  
  
"All right, well, I guess I'm going to bed for the last time in L.A," I tell him.  
  
"Sleep tight, love," he says.  
  
  
  
The next day I left everything behind. Francie had no idea that when I said good bye to her, I was really saying good bye. I wanted to give her a hug and tell her everything at that point, but it wasn't the best idea.  
  
My ride to the airport and getting on the plane was uneventful. I flew on an alias that Andrew provided me with and had no problems at all. Most of the plane ride I slept and read through a few magazines.  
  
I practically ran through the airport and reached the baggage terminal in Sydney in record time. I glanced through the room and finally spotted the love of my life standing in the far right corner. I briskly walk over to him and once he sees me he straightens up his stance as to accommodate my arrival. As soon as I reach him, I fling my arms around him in a hug.  
  
"I love you," I whisper into his ear.  
  
"I love you too."  
  
~Thank you for reading! Please, any last reviews will be awesome! Take me to 200 for the story and that would rock! Any comments or ideas for a sequel would be great! And Happy New Year~ Masquerade 


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